


The Roommate

by honeyMellon



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 09:33:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 76,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyMellon/pseuds/honeyMellon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo didn't know what to expect when he moved into the tiny dorm room. His roommate was supposed to arrive two days ago. He hoped it was someone he could get along with - hopefully somebody not too sloppy (like Renji), or too intense (like Ishida), or too quiet (like Chad), or too fierce (like Rukia). He didn't know that he was in for a surprise. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Dad! I can do this myself!"

"But why? My darling son!" Kurosaki Isshin cried, horrified that his son would decline his generous offer to carry his luggages for him.

Ichigo groaned and resisted the urge to punch his father's face into a pulp. As it was, they were already making a scene, right in the middle of the hallway in his dormitory.

_Just wonderful._

Not even ten minutes on the floor, and his father had already managed to make him the weirdo from room 1506. Ichigo sagged against the wall, wishing that he could smash his fist into the concrete. But then again, that would just make him the  _psycho_  from room 1506, a violent one to boot.

_Breathe, Ichigo, breathe! You can do this!_

"Ichi-nii, just let papa help you," Yuzu said, touching Ichigo's arm gently. "Once we leave, we won't get to see you for a while, Ichi-nii."

The sad tone in his baby sister's voice immediately extinguished the fire burning in Ichigo's chest, and he straightened up and sighed in defeat. "Alright," he huffed. Before his dad could whoop in joy, he glared at the older man. "NO singing!"

"Of course!" Ichigo's father beamed and immediately picked up two large suitcases and began to march down the hallway.

"Dad! My room's that way!" Ichigo hissed, pointing to the opposite direction. Really, why did his father have to act like a six-year-old every time they were out in public?

But then he remembered what Yuzu had just said. Yes, once his family leaves for home tomorrow, it would be at least a year before he could see them again. After all, plane tickets between Japan and the US were not cheap. This trip had already made quite a dent in his dad's bank account. Isshin had insisted that they went on a family vacation before he started college, and now Ichigo was glad that they did.

With that thought in mind, Ichigo forced himself to swallow the insults that were at the tip of his tongue, and simply followed behind his father, who had once again marched down the corridor, lugging the luggages behind him. He made a ridiculous sight, but at least he was heading towards the right direction now.

"Here we are! Room 1506!" Yuzu announced, pointing excitedly as they stopped in front of a plain-looking, beige-colored door.

"Looks ugly," Karin commented flatly, obviously unimpressed. She crossed her arms over her chest and watched her brother fumble with the key.

After a few attempts, Ichigo finally pushed the door open. He wasn't expecting a palace, of course, but the sight that greeted him was truly depressing. The room was extremely small - two desks sat side by side against one wall, while a two-tiered bunk bed took up the opposite wall. A small closet claimed the third wall, and a glass-pane window decorated the remaining one. Not that his own room at home was much bigger, but at least he didn't have to share it with anyone.

Yep, he was going to share this room with a roommate. How two boys in their late teens were supposed to squeeze into this narrow space was beyond him, but that was how it was.

"Your roommate is not here!" Isshin exclaimed, sticking his head over Ichigo's shoulder.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," Ichigo shot back.

The four of them eventually managed to wrestle all his luggages - four in total - into the room. Ichigo stood in the middle of the room and looked around, wondering where his luggages were supposed to go. He couldn't squeeze everything into the closet because that wouldn't leave any space for his roommate, but putting them against the wall would take up precious floor space. Oh, the dilemma!

"I wonder what he's like," Yuzu said, looking at the piece of paper that Ichigo received at the registration desk. "Grimmjow, err, Jack-er-jacks?" she struggled to pronounce the name, which was printed clearly next to field marked "Resident 2".

"I have no idea, Yuzu," Ichigo muttered. He eyed the bunk bed apprehensively. Which one should he take, the upper bunk or the lower one?

"The lower one," Karin said firmly.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because then you won't have to drag your fat ass up there every night."

"Karin!" Yuzu gasped in horror.

Ichigo chuckled at the smug smile on Karin's face. She hadn't fussed over him like Yuzu had about this whole farewell thing, but he knew that she was feeling it too. Her defiant eyes were just a tad softer than usual, and she was smiling more. It made Ichigo want to hug her and tell her that's it's alright, but he knew that would just earn him a kick in the shin.

The rest of the afternoon flew past quickly; Karin helped a little, but it was mostly Yuzu who helped Ichigo unpack most of his clothes, even organized them in the closet for him, while his dad entertained himself by climbing up and down the bunk bed, claiming that he was "testing its stability". He wanted to make sure that "his precious son doesn't get crushed to death".

The whole time, Ichigo kept eying the door, expecting his roommate to just waltz into the room. He hadn't the slightest clue what his roommate would look like. Jaegerjaques sounded European, but it's really hard to tell from a name nowadays. He was kind of excited and apprehensive at the same time; he hoped that it would be someone he could get along with - hopefully somebody not too sloppy (like Renji) or too intense (like Ishida) or too quiet (like Chad) or too fierce (like Rukia).

Ichigo smiled as he thought of his friends. They had all gone to different colleges. Rukia and Renji qualified for a prestigious university in Japan, Ishida left for Russia, and Chad went to Mexico. He hoped that they would all keep in touch.

But his roommate never showed up. Ichigo had the room to himself that night, and his family took advantage of that. His dad took the upper bunk while the twins squeezed in with Ichigo. It was impossible to sleep with the three of them on one tiny bed, but Ichigo enjoyed the feeling of his sisters cuddling with him like they used to when they were younger.

The next day, Ichigo sent his family off at the airport. He took a cab back to the dorm, thinking that his roommate must've arrived by now. Orientation was just two days away, and he knew that his roommate was a freshman just like he was, so the guy had to arrive soon.

His room was still empty, though. Ichigo looked around the room to see if anyone had been in there, but there were no new luggages, no boxes - nothing. He spent the rest of the day unpacking some more and trying to figure out where to store his empty luggages. Then, in the evening, he went to the cafeteria like everyone else on the floor. On the way downstairs, he noticed that almost everyone had arrived. Most rooms had their doors open, and he could see people chatting and laughing inside.

Everyone else's roommates seemed to have arrived, so where was his?

That night, he had the room all to himself again. This time, he didn't have his crazy father humming while everyone's trying to sleep, didn't have Yuzu's small body curled up beside him, didn't have Karin kicking him in the middle of the night. For the first time in his life, Ichigo felt lonely.

It was quite pathetic, really, how fast he was becoming homesick. He wasn't particularly needy or anything. Heck, he wasn't even a sociable person, but it was a little unnerving knowing that he would be sharing this tiny space with a stranger. A stranger who was supposed to show up two days ago.

* * *

Ichigo went to collect his text books the next day. He had ordered them online and was supposed to pick them up at the campus bookstore, so here he was, his arms straining under the weight of four thick hard-covered books that felt more like stone slabs. He called the elevator with his elbow, and was close to sobbing in relief when he finally arrived in front of his room. In an attempt of a daring balancing act, Ichigo managed to unlock the door, and then he kicked the door in. His arms were starting to tremble under the weight, and the books were beginning to tilt precariously close to the side.

The door flung open and Ichigo promptly dropped everything on his own feet.

There was a naked man in his room!

The guy was looking at him with a bored expression, as if it was completely normal for someone to walk in on him while he was completely naked. His baby blue hair was wet and matted to his head, the water creating little streams down his body. There was a large scar across his torso that looked like a slash from a machete, but otherwise the man's body was perfect - it was muscular but not too bulky, tall but not gangly. And he had intense blue eyes that were currently looking right at Ichigo.

Ichigo couldn't help it. It was a completely normal reaction under the circumstances, alright?

He screamed.

* * *

_Aww great, my roommate is a girl._

Grimmjow stared at the orange-haired kid who'd just walked in and promptly started to scream his head off. He looked like he was scared shitless, and he was the one with clothes on for fuck's sake!

He even managed to drop his books on his own feet _._  Maybe he wasn't screaming because he saw a naked dude. Maybe he was screaming because his feet fucking hurt.

The kid was now hopping around on one foot, cussing up a storm as he held the other foot tightly in his hands.

Yeah, those books must be really heavy. Poor kid.

Grimmjow stopped staring at his roommate and went back to toweling off his body. The first thing he did when he arrived was to take a shower. He felt gross; who wouldn't after a seven-hour non-stop flight from all across the other side of the country? His t-shirt had been so damp with sweat that it stuck to his body, and his hair was as limp as a soft dick. The shower had been heaven.

"Why are you naked?" the orange-haired kid began to yell.

Grimmjow looked up and threw the towel onto the bed. "I just took a shower," he replied, rolling his eyes.

His roommate obviously didn't think that was a good enough answer, because he sputtered, "Don't you put on some clothes right after a shower?"

Grimmjow shrugged and started digging through his hand luggage for a t-shirt. He found one - it was black with a bunch of stupid cat cartoons on it - and slipped it on, then he pulled out a pair of boxers.

"Please tell me you didn't walk back from the shower like this," the kid whined.

"I had a towel." Grimmjow was beginning to think that his roommate wasn't very bright. "See? Towel?" He shook his damp towel in front of the boy's face. "I only took if off because I wanted to get dressed."

"You're G-grimmjow, right?"

"Last I checked, yeah," Grimmjow said. "And you must be Ichigo."

Ichigo nodded, looking like he was wearing blush on his cheeks. Seriously, was it so surprising to see a dude naked? Hadn't the kid ever shared a locker room before in high school?

"That's my bed," Ichigo said, pointing at Grimmjow's bed.

"Oh, okay," Grimmjow shrugged again. He grabbed his bag and flung it up to the upper bunk with ease. There wasn't much inside - a week's worth of clothes, more or less. He hadn't bothered packing properly, there was always his credit card.

Ichigo looked around the room with a puzzled look on his face. Grimmjow frowned -  _what now?_

"Where are your luggages?" Ichigo asked.

Grimmjow gestured to the upper bunk. "I just threw it up there."

"That's all you brought?" Ichigo asked again, seemingly stunned.

_Seriously, my roommate is a girl_ and _she's stupid._

Grimmjow's eyes went to the four large suitcases standing against the wall next to one of the desks. It suddenly made sense. The kid probably thought that everyone brought their entire room to college like he did.

"Yep, that's all I brought," he said, enjoying the wide-eyed look of shock on Ichigo's face. "Something wrong with that?"

Ichigo shook his head. "Just surprised, that's all," he said.

* * *

Ichigo's foot finally stopped throbbing after half an hour. He thought he'd fractured at least one of them, judging from the level of pain.

And he  _could_   _not_   _believe_  that this was how he met his roommate for the first time. Oh, he'd  _met_  the guy alright, he'd met  _every part_  of the guy. His eyes hadn't missed it, but he just refused to think about it. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to politely say hello and shake his hand - fully dressed, thank you very much.

After the initial shock ebbed, Ichigo began to observe his new roommate. The teen was a few inches taller than he was, and definitely broader. He looked older, but Ichigo couldn't be sure. He seemed to be carefree, since he only brought one tiny bag with him.

Oh, and he's a smoker. How did Ichigo know?

Because Grimmjow was sitting by the window smoking right now, that's how.

"This is a non-smoking campus," Ichigo had said when Grimmjow pulled out a packet of cigarettes. The look he got in return made him deflate like a leaking balloon. Ichigo wasn't meek by any means, he just didn't want to antagonize his roommate on the very first day.

When dinner time came, Grimmjow disappeared. Ichigo wasn't really expecting to have dinner with Grimmjow, so he just went to the cafeteria alone, like what he'd been doing for the past two days. If the first impression he got of Grimmjow was any indication, it didn't look like they would be having any meals together. That's perfectly okay with him, he wasn't that desperate for a friend. As long as they weren't ripping each other apart, he could deal with it.

At least, that was what he thought before he opened the door to his room and found himself staring at a box of half-eaten pizza in the middle of the room.  _On the floor_. Hell, part of the pizza crust was even touching the floor. Grimmjow was sitting next to it, a slice of pizza in one hand, and one of Ichigo's text books in the other.

'"What are you doing?" Ichigo blurted in disbelief.

"Man, this looks like some boring stuff," Grimmjow said around a mouthful of pizza. He didn't even bother looking up.

Ichigo blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Your book," Grimmjow said. He shoved the slice of pizza between his teeth and used his hand -  _his dirty hand!_  - to poke the book. Just as Ichigo feared, a reddish smear immediately appeared on the formerly pristine page.

Ichigo didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He'd always thought that this was a weird phrase - what could possibly make someone not know whether to laugh or cry? Well, now he knew. He stalked over to Grimmjow and snatched the book away. The boy didn't look the least bit apologetic. If anything, he looked  _offended_.

_I can deal with an asshole, it's okay_ , Ichigo told himself as he tried to rub off the pizza sauce.

And that was what he kept telling himself, until it was time for bed. Ichigo was just sliding under his covers when Grimmjow went to the closet and began to strip.

"What are you doing?" Ichigo asked. He was actually feeling a little afraid of the answer.

_Please don't let it be please don't let it be-_

"I'm going to bed," Grimmjow replied in a tone that instantly made Ichigo feel stupid.

After that, Ichigo could only watch helplessly as Grimmjow approached the bed and climbed up the short flight of stairs to the upper bunk. The short flight of stairs that happened to be right next to Ichigo's head, where he had a perfect view - a perfect view of some things that scarred him for life.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

Just one night ago, Ichigo had been certain that there existed no human being who could snore louder than his father. Alas, he could not be more wrong. If he were to liken his father's snoring to a lawnmower, then Grimmjow's was a fucking airplane. Unable to sleep well, he got up before his alarm went off in the morning. The only thing that made him drag his tired butt out of bed was the fact that today was freshman orientation day.

He took his sweet time, since he had plenty of it thanks to his idiot roommate; he showered, went down for breakfast, picked out a decent outfit, made sure that he had everything he needed in his backpack, the whole nine yards. When he finally deemed himself presentable, he headed out.

Then, he realized that Grimmjow was still asleep.

"Oi," he called, tilting his head up towards the top bunk.

Silence.

"Oi!" Ichigo tried again, raising his voice this time.

Silence.

Ichigo pursed his lips. It really wasn't his duty to get Grimmjow up for orientation, but he could at least try to be a nice roommate, even though Grimmjow wasn't. Deciding that he'd rather not climb up there and risk getting another eyeful of the blue-haired teen's body parts - oh, he had  _blue hair_ alright, if you get his drift - Ichigo took a fresh pair of socks, rolled up in a neat little ball, and threw it.

"The fuck!"

Ichigo contained his laughter and tried to sound stern. "You're going to be late for orientation."

Grimmjow growled and muttered under his breath, the bed shifted a little, then the same ball of socks flew down and hit Ichigo right in the face. Surprised, he backpedaled and nearly rear-ended his desk.

"Orientation is compulsory, you know!" he said indignantly. He picked up his socks and decided that he'd given his best shot, quite literally.

The bed frame rattled again, then Grimmjow mumbled, "That's why I don't need to go."

 _What?_  That made  _no sense_  whatsoever to Ichigo, but it was Grimmjow's business now. If he'd rather miss one of the most important event in their college life, he could. With a roll of his eyes, Ichigo slung his school bag over his shoulder and left.

As it turned out, most students were not like Grimmjow, and the hall was soon packed full of chattering young people trying to out-yell one another. Ichigo was one of the earliest one to arrive, so he managed to get a seat at the ideal location - not too far from the back where he could still hear what's going on, but not too close to the front where he could lower the possibility of calling unnecessary attention to himself.

"Great dye job!" someone suddenly piped up behind Ichigo, nearly startling him out of his chair.

Ichigo turned around and found himself looking at a boy with an unnaturally wide grin on his face. He had pale blond hair that reached his jaw and straight bangs that reached his eyebrows - all in all, he looked like he was wearing a fucking helmet. His t-shirt was an eye-catching shade of lime green that sported a weird-looking, mask-like logo on the front.

"It's natural," Ichigo said. His eyebrow was threatening to twitch in annoyance, but he stopped himself. How many times had he had to go through this again? Now that he thought about it, he was surprised that Grimmjow hadn't brought it up. But then again, who was he to comment when he had such bright blue hair himself?

"No shit!" the blonde exclaimed, his face a picture of awe. "That's so cool!" Before Ichigo could smile back politely, he nudged the boy next to him and said, "Check this out! This guy's hair is  _real!_ "

The boy shot the blonde a bored look and said, "Why are you so surprised? Rangiku's hair is about the same color."

Ichigo felt a stab of gratitude towards the guy who'd just spoken. He supposed he must have had his share of teasing about his appearance too, what with those nasty-looking scars down his face and the ridiculous tattoo of the number 69 on his cheek. Why anyone would get such a hideous thing was beyond Ichigo's comprehension.

The blonde scowled at his friend, then immediately turned back to Ichigo. He stuck out his hand. "My name's Hirako Shinji! Nice to meet ya!"

Ichigo shook the offered hand. Shinji looked like he could be annoying, but at least he was friendly. "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo," he introduced himself.

Shinji's mouth immediately fell open, and it looked like he was about to make a comment about Ichigo's name when the same black-haired boy elbowed him in the ribs.

"Stop being an ass, Hirako," he said. "Sorry about that, Kurosaki, he was dropped when he was a baby. I'm Hisagi, Hisagi Shuuhei."

Ichigo smirked at the wounded look on the blonde's face as he whined, "I was  _not!_ "

There was a soft giggle, and Ichigo turned to look at the other new face. The kid was a lot shorter than all of them, with jet black hair that ended in pointy, messy spikes just above his jaw. When he realized that everyone was staring at him, he clamped both hands over his mouth and turned pink in the face.

"And that's Yamada Hanatarou," Shuuhei went on, gesturing to the blushing teen.

Ichigo nodded at Hanatarou. The three friends made an odd-looking pack, but Ichigo liked them immediately, especially Shuuhei, who actually looked kind of cool. Then, just as that thought crossed Ichigo's mind, a shadow descended over Shuuhei, and then the boy was suddenly squashed by a set of bosoms from behind. Ichigo couldn't help staring - he'd never seen such generous assets on a woman before, and  _boy_  did this woman have assets.

"Rangiku, what the fuck?" Shuuhei yelled.

"How can you make new friends without me, Shuu?" the girl demanded accusingly.

Shuuhei struggled to escape her grasp, coughing and swearing loudly until she finally let go. "This," he said, sounding a little breathless. "Is Matsumoto Rangiku. She's loud, annoying, and - oww!"

Ichigo chuckled as Rangiku wrapped her arms around Shuuhei's shoulders and smothered him with her chest again. Yes, they definitely made up a weird bunch. But before they could chat further, a university officer began to talk into the microphone, and Ichigo turned around to listen, an amused smile still on his lips.

Later on, Ichigo joined the four friends for lunch. They were just as entertaining as they had been in the morning, laughing and throwing insults at each other like six-year-olds. Ichigo didn't feel like an outsider at all even though they'd just met a few hours ago.

"He looks like someone  _died_ ," Shinji was complaining, waving his hand dramatically in the air.

"That's very unkind, Shinji-kun," Hanatarou admonished with a frown. "Maybe someone did." He paused, and then said wistfully, "At least your roommate doesn't look like a freak. Mine is like, seven feet tall and looks at me like he wants to kill me in my sleep."

Ichigo raised his eyebrows. So it looked like he wasn't the only one with a roommate problem. Interesting. "What about you guys?" he asked, looking at Shuuhei and Rangiku.

Rangiku replied, not bothering to swallow her mouthful of pizza. "Shuu and I live off campus with a bunch of friends."

"Lucky you," Shinji whined.

Shuuhei rolled his eyes at his friend and asked Ichigo, "What about you? You live in the dorm too, right?"

Ichigo balked. How should he describe Grimmjow? Weird, rude, messy, snores, dirty, likes to parade around naked...there were just too many words he could think of, so he ended up settling on something vague. "He's, ah, interesting."

"Uh oh," Shinji said immediately, his shit-eating grin back at full force. "Sounds like trouble!"

Ichigo sighed. "You have no idea."

* * *

By the time orientation was over, Ichigo was mentally drained. His head felt like a can of tuna - too much information, too little space. His backpack was now stuffed with so many forms and pamphlets that he didn't know if he'd ever be able to finish reading them. His lack of sleep was catching up with him, too. He couldn't wait to melt into his bed and hibernate.

But when he opened the door and stepped inside his room, he immediately wished that he hadn't come back.

Bedsheets hung limply from the side of the upper bunk, the wrinkled fabric nearly touching Ichigo's bed. A pile of clothing sat on the floor next to Ichigo's desk - Ichigo recognized the black cat-print t-shirt that Grimmjow had worn the day before. And the cherry on top of the sundae? A bunch of cigarette butts sitting on top of Ichigo's desk, complete with a small ring of ash littered around them.

_You're fucking kidding me._

Grimmjow wasn't in the room. Ichigo stood at the door, seething mad but not able to take it out on the culprit. He stalked over to the bed and threw Grimmjow's bedsheets back on top, then he fell into his bed on his back and sighed. The only thing that kept him from kicking the furniture in frustration was his exhaustion.

He wasn't even aware that he'd fallen asleep. It felt like he had only blinked, but when he opened his eyes again, the room was suddenly a lot brighter. Then he saw the thing that had woken him up.

"Oh hey, you're back," Grimmjow said, sounding surprised. He was holding the door open with one foot, his elbow still on the light switch.

Ichigo sat up, feeling a little groggy. Grimmjow's hands were full with paper bags and boxes, stacked so high that it covered his chin.

"You went shopping?" Ichigo asked, his eyes widening as he recognized some of the brands on the paper bags - Armani, Hugo Boss, Apple, Louis Vuitton, and a few other brands that Ichigo had never heard of. Quite the shopping spree.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "No, I collect paper bags."

Ichigo scowled. "You made a mess," he said, suddenly remembering that he was supposed to be pissed at his roommate.

"Oh, yeah, sorry 'bout that," Grimmjow said offhandedly. He shuffled over to his desk and dumped his stuff all over it, seemingly unconcerned when some of the bags just slid off onto the floor.

Ichigo's mouth watered when Grimmjow opened the Apple box and took out a sleek silver laptop. "Wow, is that the new MacBook Pro Retina Display?" he asked, feeling rather envious.

"This? Yeah." Grimmjow shrugged, like he wasn't holding twenty six hundred dollars' worth of electronics in his hand. "Why?"

Ichigo opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. He was going to gush about how cool it was, but decided that he'd rather not inflate his roommate's ego.

"Nothing," he muttered. "Have you had dinner yet?"

Grimmjow shrugged agian - Ichigo noticed that he seemed to do this a lot. "Yeah, I ate at Acquerello on the way back."

"Acki-what?" Ichigo blurted before he could stop himself. "Why not the cafeteria?"

"Some Italian place. I'd rather not eat the kind of shit they serve here," Grimmjow replied with an exaggerated grimace on his face as he emptied the rest of the boxes and paper bags. Shirts and pants were filling up the desk space and even spilling over onto the chair, and Grimmjow wasn't even done yet.

Ichigo wasn't particularly into luxury brands, but he could recognize expensive things when he saw them, and  _damn_ , that was a lot of expensive things. And did the guy just refer to cafeteria food as  _shit?_  Why'd he bother staying here at the dorms, then? Ichigo wanted to ask, but the look on his roommate's face stopped him. Judging from Grimmjow's attitude, he was either going to get a sarcastic answer or an insulting one, and he wasn't in the mood for either one.

* * *

The smell of his shampoo usually calmed him down. So did the simple act of washing his hair. There was something therapeutic about having his scalp massaged, even if he had to do it himself. But this time, even this wan't helping.

Grimmjow was pissed. The only reason he'd chosen Acquerello for dinner was its reputation, and he'd been severely disappointed. What a fucking waste of stomach space. Still, it was probably much better than the garbage they served here.

Why did he have to put up with this kind of nonsense?

But of course he already knew the reason. It was the same reason why he'd even bothered trying to pretend that he gave a shit about anything in his life. He wouldn't think twice about pissing off his parents, who obviously just wanted to get rid of him, but he would never, ever disappoint Tessai.

Grimmjow knew that his parents had been waiting for him to turn eighteen just so that they could send him off on the pretense of providing education for their son, but he knew better. They were ashamed of him. "Troublemaker", they'd always said of him. He was the black sheep, the rotten apple, the failure in the family. He wasn't the "perfect son", he refused to follow his parents' every whim and let them rule his life - unlike his stupid older brother.

But Tsukabishi Tessai was different - he never judged, never looked at him with distaste like his father always did. Tessai truly cared, he could tell, even if the man never showed it outwardly. Tessai was more than a butler, more than a mentor, more than a bodyguard, so much more than just another random old man that his parents hired to keep their younger son in line. But what did they know? They never cared anyway. To them, Tessai was just one of their hundreds of employees at the estate.

Sometimes Grimmjow wished that he could choose his parents. He would choose Tessai without blinking an eye. But life's a bitch. He should probably just thank his fairy godmother that his parents even agreed to let the man come here with him. It at least made life here slightly more bearable. He could pretend to give two shits about his life, pretend to go to school like the bunch of losers here, pretend that he could put up with having to stay in this shitty dorm.

It didn't help that he had a pissy roommate. The kid had been nothing but a tight-ass so far, and a prude to boot. Grimmjow could smell a mommy's boy from across the country, and Ichigo  _reeked_  of it. What a loser. But at least it was entertaining to see the look of horror on Ichigo's face whenever he saw him naked. He'd had a blast last night, purposely spending longer on that ladder than he needed to; the idiot had turned so red that it took all his self restraint not to laugh.

Finished with his shower, Grimmjow wrapped a towel over his waist and strolled back to his room. Without thinking, he pushed the door open.

"Hey! Don't you know how to knock?" Ichigo yelped, hastily pulling a t-shirt over his head.

"What's the big deal? What do you have that  _I_  don't?" Grimmjow rolled his eyes.  _See? A prude._

Ichigo clearly didn't get what he meant, because he continued to whine. "That's beside the point! Have some respect!"

"You complain too much," Grimmjow said flatly. He walked over to his desk and took off his towel, and then continued to dry his body.

"Grimmjow!"

Grimmjow whipped around in exasperation. "What now?"

Ichigo took one look at him and immediately squeezed his eyes shut. "Can you  _please_  put some clothes on?"

"What the fuck for? I'm going to bed!" Grimmjow growled, annoyed.  _God, the kid is insufferable!_

There was a pause, a moment when Grimmjow thought Ichigo finally understood, then the boy let out a sigh and climbed into his bed. Without a word, he grabbed his blanket and threw it over his head.

Grimmjow stared at the lump on the bed, speechless.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

By the time the first month of the semester came and went, Ichigo had gotten used to seeing his roommate parade around the room without a thread on. Sometimes he felt like Grimmjow did it on purpose, just to piss him off. He still blushed whenever he saw it, especially if Grimmjow happened to be facing him, but he'd learn to hide his reaction better now.

It's a pity, really. Ichigo would never admit this to anyone, but he actually thought that Grimmjow was quite good looking. Okay, who was he kidding? Grimmjow was hot; Ichigo didn't know many people with a body like that. His eyes, too - so intensely blue, like a bottomless ocean.

It's a pity that he was such an asshole, and a damn lazy one, too. As if having to slave away under the pressure of five different classes was not enough, Grimmjow had to rub it in his face by lounging around the room all the time like he had nothing to do. While Ichigo's desk was piled high with books and stationery, Grimmjow's held a television. It wasn't big - the desk was only so big after all - but it was tempting and more than a little distracting.

Ichigo wondered why the blue-haired teenager bothered attending school. He'd _never_  seen the guy go to class. Granted, he wasn't always in the room during the day, but when he was, Grimmjow was always there, smoking and watching TV, or flipping through car magazines, or worse, watching porn on his laptop. It wasn't that Ichigo thought there was anything wrong with porn, it's just…let's just say that Ichigo would rather not watch his roommate leer at naked people while one of his hands was hidden underneath his loose t-shirt.

School was hard for Ichigo not because he didn't have the brains for it, it was the language barrier that had him stumped at times. That, and computer programming class. Ichigo was shit at things like that. He could handle biology and chemistry, even math, but computer languages were like a whole other universe to him. He didn't understand why there wasn't one universal language, why was there the need for so many different ones - all with their different syntax, mechanics, concepts? His mind couldn't wrap itself around the rigid calculations, the algorithms and their complexities, and the cryptic errors messages that he could never understand. And don't even get him started on the mysterious crashes that seemed to happen for no good reason.

He was dealing with one now. His program ran fine at first, only to crash and burn a few seconds later. The only message he got was that there was a null pointer exception. He _kind of_  understood what that meant - he was accessing an object that didn't exist in memory - but he couldn't figure out where in the code had he done it. He'd gone over his work, modified it here and there, but the problem persisted.

He'd been sitting in front of his laptop for at least two hours, his frustration level going up a notch with every passing minute. His eyes were beginning to feel dry and tired, and his head pounded in time with his pulse. It was getting late and he had an early class tomorrow, but this assignment was duetomorrow afternoon, and he didn't have time between classes to finish it.

"Yo," a voice floated down from the upper bunk, startling Ichigo so much that he accidentally hit the Return key on his keyboard.

Ichigo scowled and quickly fixed up his code. Not bothering to turn around, he said flatly, "What." He had long forgone any common courtesy with Grimmjow, since the idiot never had it in the first place. Grimmjow didn't seem to mind.

"I'm trying to sleep."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "So, sleep."

The bed frame creaked, then Grimmjow growled, "I can't with you cursing and talking to yourself like that."

Ichigo blushed in embarrassment. Did he really do that? He supposed it was possible, he did that sometimes, especially when he was really focused on something. He also had the habit of shaking his legs and sticking his tongue out when he's deep in thought.

"Sorry," he muttered. He bit his lip and went back to work, searching the internet for hints on solving his problem. Every time he thought he found the problem, he'd correct his code, only to have his hope squashed over and over again. If only he could-

" _Fuck!_ Will you shut the fuck up?"

The sudden yell made Ichigo jump up in his seat, then the bunk bed squeaked. Ichigo turned around to see Grimmjow sitting up on the upper bunk, glaring at him.

"Sorry," Ichigo said sheepishly, realizing that he must've started to talk to himself again.

There was a string of low curses, grunts, and then Grimmjow climbed down the ladder, the bed frame rattling under his weight. He stalked up to Ichigo's desk in all of his naked glory and glowered at him. "The fuck's your problem?"

Ichigo gaped, not knowing how he should reply. How do you explain that you're trying to solve a programming problem but it's crashing and you don't know why, to a grumpy roommate who doesn't give a shit about school? Before he could open his mouth, though, Grimmjow yanked Ichigo's laptop towards him and began to scroll up and down the page of the IDE application that Ichigo was using.

Stunned, Ichigo simply stared blankly as his roommate muttered under his breath and stared intently at the screen. He forced himself to keep his eyes on Grimmjow's face instead of at his laptop, which was barely inches away from a certain body part that he'd rather not see at the moment. After a while, Grimmjow's lips peeled back into a sneer, and he pushed the laptop back to Ichigo.

"Tch, your index calculation is wrong in your nested for loop," Grimmjow said, then he turned away, threw on his silk sleeping robe, and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Ichigo stared at the editor and went over the part that Grimmjow had pointed out. Sure enough, his index was off by one, and that was causing him to access something outside the bounds of the matrix. It only took all of thirty seconds for Grimmjow to find the bug that Ichigo had been hunting for for the past two plus hours. Ichigo was beyond impressed.

This was unbelievable. It was the last thing he'd expected from his slacker of a roommate. Ichigo's cheeks burned with shame; it wasn't that he looked down on Grimmjow, he was just surprised. He didn't actually think that Grimmjow was dumb or anything. The heat on his cheeks told him otherwise, and he felt even more ashamed of himself.

Of course, his newly-gained respect for his roommate evaporated almost instantly when the boy stepped back into the room and immediately shrugged out of his robe. Ichigo's eyes instinctively roamed downwards before he caught himself. It was a natural reaction, alright? He couldn't help it. It wasn't his fault that he happened to like men, and there was a very attractive one flaunting his goods in front of him right now.

He thought he caught a smirk on Grimmjow's face before the blue-haired teen climbed up the short ladder to his bunk. Embarrassed, he quickly turned back to his laptop and made the necessary corrections. He compiled and ran the program, and was relieved to see it actually working this time. The pressure lifted from his shoulders, and he felt drained immediately. Stifling a yawn, he put his laptop to sleep and climbed into his bed.

But even as he curled up under the covers, he couldn't help wondering why Grimmjow was putting his brain to waste. Why would anyone pay good money to come here and yet not do anything? Didn't he want to graduate? If he didn't care for school, why was he even here?

* * *

"Your mother sends her regards," the dark-haired, mustached man said to Grimmjow.

They were sitting in an Italian restaurant; its decor wasn't as fancy as Acquerello, but the food was good. Grimmjow took a generous swig of his Coke and scowled.

"You don't have to make things up to make me feel better, Tessai," he said gruffly. All of a sudden, the pasta in front of him didn't look so appetizing anymore.

Tessai raised his eyebrows and looked at his young charge over the top of his glasses. "Are you suggesting that I'm lying?"

Grimmjow sighed heavily and put down his fork. "I…" he started. He looked into Tessai's eyes, then quickly looked away again. "You know what I mean," he said.

The older man leaned forward. "You know she is sick, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. When was she  _not_ sick? His mother was weak,  _useless_ , always hiding behind her illness. He hated the way she was always so quietly condescending. He didn't need to hear her yell at him to feel her disappointment in him. The disdain in those purplish blue eyes were clear, even though they were always half-lidded.

He had been looking forward to dinner with Tessai, but now the mood had been ruined. He hated talking about his family, and Tessai knew that. But that didn't stop the man from bringing them up, as if it was his duty to update Grimmjow with the going-ons in his family. He knew that Tessai's biggest wish was to see the Jaegerjaques family whole again, but Grimmjow knew that it wasn't possible.

It wasn't possible because  _he_  was the problem. Grimmjow was the thorn in the family's side, and had been ever since he was born. He was the younger son, second to his elder brother, Ulquiorra, who was four years older. Grimmjow only found out that Ulquiorra was not related to him by blood when he turned ten. By then, he had already developed a deep hatred for his brother, and knowing that he was adopted only made it worse.

Aren't you supposed to love your own flesh and blood more than an outsider? An outcast who wasn't wanted even by his own parents?

Grimmjow's parents obviously didn't think so. Children weren't born with hatred in their innocent minds, but given enough reinforcements, hatred could grow. It begun as soon as Grimmjow was old enough to understand human interaction. Where Ulquiorra was quiet and obedient, Grimmjow was rough. Ulquiorra was the type of child who preferred to read a book indoors, while Grimmjow loved to run outside and climb trees. He came home with bruises and broken bones, while the worst Ulquiorra got was paper cuts.

Relatives played favorites - always saying how polite Ulquiorra was, what a bright future he had, what a handsome lad he was. The boy excelled in everything - violin, piano, singing, hell, even ballet. Grimmjow couldn't sit still long enough for any of those, and his parents weren't exactly subtle in expressing their frustration about that. Those were fitting hobbies for a Jaegerjaques, not sword fighting or martial arts. His parents forbade him from participating in such activities, and, being the young, over-active boy that he was, Grimmjow rebelled.

He started small - "accidentally" breaking Ulquiorra's violin strings, stealing his favorite books and throwing them into the river. Then it grew as they became older. School fights, talking back to teachers, gambling, bullying. Grimmjow didn't care what people thought of him anymore, because whatever he did, he could never beat Ulquiorra anyway. He had even heard, once, from some older relative that he didn't care to remember, that he seemed more like the adopted child than Ulquiorra.

He never truly understood why he did what he did. Perhaps it started off as a pathetic attempt at getting his parent's attention, but then it grew on him. He actually  _liked_  it. He liked the thrill of "borrowing" and racing his father's car up and down the highway in the middle of the night, he loved the satisfying sound of his fists against flesh, the crack of knuckles against ribs. He reveled in the sight of his teachers' shocked faces. It was hilarious. Just because he was a Jaegerjaques didn't mean he had to live the way "the Jaegerjaques" did - whatever that meant. Why was he expected to behave a certain way just because of his last name? What was so special about his family anyway? His grandparents and parents were rich, well respected, but they were just normal people. He just didn't see what the big deal was.

Tessai was the only thing that kept him sane. A long time ago, probably when Grimmjow was eleven or twelve, around the age when he started picking fights at school, he had, well, picked a fight with the wrong people. He had been cornered by a group of seventeen year olds, all taller and bigger than him. If Tessai hadn't found him in time, he would've been beaten to a pulp. But as it was, he was still badly injured, and after that incident, his parents labeled him a delinquent.

Tessai seemed to understand his frustrations. He offered to teach Grimmjow how to fight - _properly_. Not the brute force, fling-your-limbs-around way, but actual techniques. But it was on one condition - no fighting in school, in exchange for hours of secret martial art lessons in the afternoon. The decision had been easy.

But even Tessai couldn't help him in the Lamborghini incident. Grimmjow was in his last year of high school, which was less than a year ago. He had been participating in street car racing for a few years, and that night, he took his father's Lamborghini to a race. Stakes were high, tempers flared, his ego was on the line, and he ended up betting the car. In hindsight, that was really stupid, but at the heat of the moment, it seemed like the most logical thing to do.

He had lost, of course.

He had never seen his father that livid before. _Disgrace, rubbish, shame of the family_ ; Grimmjow had never had so many insults thrown in his face all at once before, especially not from his father. It stung for the first five minutes, and then Grimmjow started laughing. He had walked out after that, leaving his father raving by himself. If a fucking  _car_ meant so much more than a son to his father, then so be it.

Three days later, he received word that he would be attending a university on the West coast, far, far away from his home.

So, here he was.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	4. Chapter 4

Ichigo was pleased. It turned that he wasn't the only one who had a hard time solving that assignment; thanks to Grimmjow's unexpected help, he was now one of the few in the class who handed it in with an actual working solution. He made a mental note to thank Grimmjow properly when he got back later. Much to his embarrassment, it occurred to him that he hadn't bothered thanking Grimmjow for his help last night. The boy didn't seem to care, but Ichigo wasn't the ungrateful kind.

Ichigo was going through his notes when a shadow suddenly loomed over him. A familiar smell attacked his nostrils, and he immediately groaned inwardly. He recognized that expensive cologne - it belonged to one of his classmates, Aizen Sosuke. Ichigo didn't understand why, but Sosuke seemed to have taken a liking to him lately, and the guy wasn't subtle about it at all.

"Hi Ichigo," Sosuke's voice was deep and silky, like he wanted to seduce Ichigo just by talking. It gave Ichigo the creeps and made the hair on his arms stand, but he would never say it to Sosuke's face - the boy didn't seem like the type who'd appreciate that kind of comment.

"Hi," Ichigo replied, looking up at the taller teenager. Sosuke was looking at him with a slight smile, his eyes partially covered by his dark brown, curly bangs.

It was the boy's eyes that bothered Ichigo the most. They always looked friendly, but for whatever reason, Ichigo felt like there was  _something_ missing in there.

"Congratulations," Sosuke went on. "I heard about the assignment. I always knew that you were smart."

Ichigo forced himself to smile politely. "I, ah, had some help."

Sosuke raised his eyebrows. "I see," he said. "You should've told me, you know I would have gladly provided my assistance." Then there was that same creepy smile again.

"Nah, I wouldn't trouble you," Ichigo said hurriedly. He reached for his book and tried to look as if he was busy, hoping that his classmate would take the hint and go away.

To his relief, Sosuke seemed to understand. "I'll see you next time, Ichigo," he said smoothly. "Please do reconsider my offer to join me for a drink some time." He gave Ichigo a grave-looking nod, then walked away. Another student, a dark-skinned, black-haired boy with sunglasses followed behind him. Ichigo never understood people who found the need to wear sunglasses indoors. But then again, this one was weird - he stuck to Sosuke like a barnacle, acting as if he was a bodyguard, always silent and unsmiling. Ichigo couldn't remember his name, it started with a T, or something like that.

"Yeah," Ichigo mumbled to Sosuke's back.

There was a shuffling of feet, and Shinji suddenly flopped down in the chair next to Ichigo. Ichigo shot the blonde a dirty look, knowing full well what he was going to say.

"Why do you even  _talk_  to him, Ichi?" Shinji whined.

"What did I tell you about mangling my name like that?" Ichigo scowled. Shinji had a bad habit of shortening everyone's name - Shuuhei became Shuu, Rangiku became Ran, Hanatarou became Han. That last one was priceless, because American students always heard it as "hon", as in "honey", so whenever Shinji called Hanatarou in public, he'd get curious stares.

"You can call me Shin," the blonde offered.

Ichigo gave up. They'd gone over this countless times; if Shuuhei hadn't been able to talk Shinji out of it over the years, Ichigo wouldn't stand a chance.

He'd gotten close to the four friends during the past month. It turned out that they'd all gone to the same high school; Shuuhei and Rangiku went back even further, since they'd been neighbors all their lives.

"I don't want to be rude," Ichigo replied, going back to the topic at hand.

Shuuhei piped up from behind. "You're encouraging him."

"Do you know what people say about him?" Shinji added, lowering his voice and slipping into his "gossip mode".

Ichigo groaned.

Shinji didn't wait for a response and simply continued. "He's apparently much older, like, close to twenty five!"

"And that's bad because…?" Ichigo asked, unable to contain his sarcasm.

"And that's not all!" Shinji went on, his eyes sparkling. "He likes  _collecting trophies_. Like, when he sees someone he fancies, he'd go after them, then when he finally gets them, he'd dump them and move on to the next target."

Ichigo scoffed, but he couldn't help feeling a shiver down his spine. If what Shinji said was true, it certainly looked like he was Sosuke's "next target".

Shuuhei leaned forward and said, "You gotta be careful, Ichi."

"Not you, too!" Ichigo complained. Inwardly, he was groaning in dismay, not because Shuuhei had picked up Shinji's bad habit, but because he knew how bad he was at handling this kind of problems.

"Don't worry, he won't 'get me'," Ichigo said firmly as he looked at his friends. Shuuhei looked completely serious, while Shinji looked delighted at the prospect of witnessing some drama first-hand.

Two hours later, though, he didn't feel so confident anymore. He had run into Sosuke again on his way to another class, and this time, the man didn't let him go so easily.

"I really would like to have dinner with you, Ichigo," Sosuke said, looking at Ichigo in a way that made Ichigo feel that he was being undressed by Sosuke's eyes.

"I'm busy," Ichigo muttered lamely. This was probably the twentieth time Sosuke had asked him out, and he was quickly running out of excuses.

"Tsk tsk, all work and no play, Ichigo," Sosuke drawled, leaning closer to Ichigo. "You have to learn to have a little fun."

Ichigo got a strong whiff of that expensive cologne again. He instinctively took a step back and gripped his books to his chest a little tighter.

"Tonight, Ichigo," Sosuke said, pressing his body closer until Ichigo could practically feel his breath on his face. "I'll take you out tonight, how about that?"

Ichigo's mind worked furiously. On one hand, if he said no, Sosuke would keep on pestering him for god knows how long, and on the other hand, if he agreed to go out, it was a chance to clarify that he wasn't interested in a more private setting, and maybe that would get Sosuke off his back for good. After a few seconds, he made up his mind.

Squaring his shoulders, Ichigo said, "Okay, just dinner."

Sosuke's face split into a wide grin, and he straightened up, finally leaving Ichigo's personal space. "Great. I'll pick you up in front of your dormitory at seven," he said.

Ichigo nodded. It was only after Sosuke walked off that it crossed his mind that he'd never told the man where he lived.

* * *

Dinner was awkward, just like what Ichigo had expected. It was boring, too. All Sosuke talked about was himself - how well-off his family was, how he had been the top student in his school, how he'd spent the last few years volunteering at a hospital, how he'd gotten a full scholarship to this university but he'd refused it and requested that the scholarship to someone who  _needed_  it instead.

Half way through the second course, Ichigo had tuned him out. As Sosuke droned on for the third time how important his father was in the community, Ichigo couldn't help comparing Sosuke to a certain blue-haired teenager. Grimmjow was rich, too, but Ichigo had never heard him boast like that. While Sosuke reveled in his family's wealth, Grimmjow didn't seem to give a shit about it. Sure, he spent money like water and bought expensive stuff, but Ichigo had never seen him flaunt them. He just did them in the same casual way regular people bought regular things.

When it was time for dessert, Ichigo finally sat up straight in his seat and let out a deep breath. This was his chance to talk to Sosuke, to tell him that he wasn't interested.

"Sosuke," Ichigo began. He poked the chocolate cake absent-mindedly as he gathered his courage. He had never rejected anyone before - not that he'd ever had the need to - so he was more than a little nervous.

"Yes, Ichigo?" Sosuke placed his fork down and laced his fingers under his chin. He looked at Ichigo with an intense gaze and smiled that creepy little smile of his.

Ichigo put his fork down as well. "I, ah, I enjoyed dinner," he said, fighting the urge to fidget. "But I just want you to know that, ah, I just want to be friends."

Sosuke's smile faltered slightly, then he immediately perked back up. "Why, we  _are_ friends, Ichigo," he said sweetly.

Ichigo clutched his napkin under the table. "I mean, you know, I appreciate your interest, but-"

"Of course I'm interested, Ichigo," Sosuke said in an amused tone. "You're so beautiful. You have such romantic eyes, I could look at you all day and not get tired of it."

"Uh," Ichigo mumbled. This wasn't exactly going the way he'd planned.  _Beautiful?_  He'd never had anyone use that word to describe him before.  _Romantic eyes?_  Ugh.

In the meantime, Sosuke waved his hand dismissively and said, "Don't you worry, Ichigo, of course we're friends. Over time, though, you'll see why you'd want me to be  _more_ than a friend to you."

Ichigo groaned inwardly. He hadn't expected that Sosuke would be so persistent. Wouldn't it be much easier to just move along and find someone else who  _would_  be interested? He wanted to reiterate his point, but Sosuke was already standing up.

"You'll see that I have infinite patience, Ichigo," Sosuke said, smiling.

The way he kept repeating Ichigo's name was starting to get on Ichigo's nerves, but he kept that to himself for now. It didn't look like Sosuke would listen to him if he asked him to stop anyway.

"Here," Sosuke said, taking Ichigo's jacket from the restaurant hostess. Before Ichigo could stop him, Sosuke draped the jacket over Ichigo's shoulders for him. Ichigo shuddered when he felt the other man's long, bony fingers on him; they lingered a little longer than they should've, then Sosuke suddenly retracted them and shrugged on his own coat.

He insisted on walking Ichigo back to his room. "That's what good friends do," he said when Ichigo politely declined. And so here he was, walking next to Ichigo, looking around the hallway with an air of disdain.

"It's such a pity for you to live in such a dump," Sosuke said when they finally stopped in front of room 1506. "You know, I have more than enough space at my suite. You're always welcome-"

Ichigo hastily cut him off. "I'm perfectly happy here, thank you."

Sosuke chuckled, sending yet another shiver up Ichigo's spine. "Of course, Ichigo," he said.

After a few tries, Ichigo finally managed to open the door to his room. Sosuke peeked over his shoulder and immediately clucked. " _How_  can you live here? It's so small!"

Ichigo bristled. "It's perfectly fine, Sosuke," he said gruffly, finally letting his annoyance creep into his tone.

"Of course," the man said. It was obvious that he was just being dismissive, but Ichigo could care less.

Ichigo stepped inside his room and wanted to close his door, but Sosuke held it open with a hand. "What about this Saturday night, Ichigo?" he asked. "There is a French restaurant that I've always wanted to try. It would be such a pity to enjoy it by myself."

Ichigo clenched his jaw. "Look, I  _told_ you-"

Sosuke held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I understand, Ichigo," he said, his tone saying quite the opposite. "But if you change your mind…" He stuck his hand into his coat pocket and handed a card to Ichigo. "Call me?"

Ichigo grabbed the card and resisted the urge to slam the door in the arrogant bastard's face. Instead, he gave a forced smile and let the door click close softly. Much as he felt like punching Sosuke in the face, he was here to get his degree, not to make enemies. He glanced briefly at the fancy-looking name card in his hand and tossed it into the trash bucket. He wouldn't call that number even if his life depended on it.

He was rummaging through his closet for clean pajamas when a low chuckle suddenly broke the silence in the room.

"What," Ichigo snapped, knowing that the voice could only belong to his idiot roommate.

Grimmjow laughed again and sat up in the upper bunk. "Looks like someone is having some  _relationship_  problems," he commented.

The mocking tone in Grimmjow's voice irked Ichigo, and he stood up and turned around to face his grinning roommate. "It's not funny," he said with a scowl.

"It is," Grimmjow said, then he laughed again. He sounded much too amused to Ichigo's liking.

Ichigo grunted and turned back. He pulled out a loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts, then shuffled over to his desk to grab his toothbrush. He was reaching out for the door knob when Grimmjow spoke again.

"You know, maybe I can help," Grimmjow said. He was sitting up on his bed and looking at Ichigo with a sly grin.

Ichigo pursed his lips when he saw the cigarette protruding between his roommate's lips. The guy was going to set the room on fire one day, he just knew it. He was so used to the smell of cigarettes now that he didn't even really notice it anymore. He glared at Grimmjow, then, he grudgingly asked, "And how would you go about 'helping' me?"

Grimmjow chuckled again, flashing his perfect teeth as his lips curled in a smirk. "I'll think of something."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. Why did he even bother asking? He snorted, then yanked the door open and trudged to the common restroom, Grimmjow's throaty laugh still ringing in his ears as the door slowly swung closed.

* * *

Sosuke was a stubborn bastard. Ichigo pressed his back against the wall, putting as much distance between himself and the taller man as Sosuke asked him again about their "date" on Saturday.

"I don't want to go," Ichigo insisted, forgoing any pretense of politeness.

They were in the student union, where Ichigo had the misfortune to run into Sosuke while on his way back from the computer lab. The man had immediately latched onto him and followed him until Ichigo finally stopped to confront him. Sosuke wasn't deterred at all, and managed to maneuver Ichigo towards the wall where he had nowhere to go. Sosuke's ever-present "best friend" stood a few feet away and watched them with a look of indifference on his face.

"I will pick you up at seven, just like the other day," Sosuke said, blatantly ignoring Ichigo's protests.

"But I-"

"Hey there," a familiar voice piped up behind Sosuke, and then a large hand tapped on the taller teen's shoulder.

Ichigo straightened up, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Can I help you?" Grimmjow asked with a cocked eyebrow as Sosuke stood up to his full height.

It was then, Ichigo saw that the two young men were exactly the same height, but Grimmjow's shoulders were broader, his arms more muscular.

Sosuke eyed the blue-haired teen with disdain. "That's my line," he said calmly, but Ichigo could sense the annoyance in his tone.

Grimmjow's face broke into a grin. "Nah, I don't need yer help. I'm good," he said. Ichigo saw a glint of what looked like glee in Grimmjow's eyes, and he wasn't sure if he liked that.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that ' _you're good_ '," Sosuke said, his voice clipped. "If you haven't realized already, you're interrupting my conversation with my friend."

"Yeah?" Grimmjow said and turned to look at Ichigo. Ichigo decided that he  _definitely_  did not like the look in his roommate's eyes. "He doesn't look like he wants to talk to you, though."

Sosuke frowned. "Nonsense," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ichigo looked at his roommate, unsure where this was heading. Then, to his utter shock, Grimmjow walked to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. As Ichigo gaped stupidly at Grimmjow, the blue-haired teen pulled him against his body possessively and said into his ear, "Do you want to talk to him, Ichigo?"

The warm breath from Grimmjow's mouth tickled Ichigo's ear and neck, and his fingers curled on their own accord. Grimmjow's voice was deeper than usual, and it was gravelly, bordering on sultry. His body radiated heat that crept onto Ichigo's skin, and to his horror, Ichigo felt himself blushing. Grimmjow's grip was strong, and Ichigo was trapped flush against his body; he could feel Grimmjow's hip bone against his own, and it made him think of…stuff that he'd rather not be thinking at the moment.

"What's this?" Sosuke demanded, his frown deepening. "Ichigo, who is this?"

Grimmjow grinned, and Ichigo felt himself crushed even tighter against Grimmjow's body. "Aww, Ichigo, you didn't tell him about me?" he said, suddenly pouting. "I'm hurt."

Ichigo swore he didn't see what came next. Never,  _ever_ , in his life, would he ever expect it to happen. He just knew that he stopped breathing when Grimmjow suddenly pressed his lips roughly against his. He was so shocked that his mouth fell open, and Grimmjow immediately sucked on his lower lip before sliding his tongue between his parted lips. If Ichigo had though that Grimmjow's body was warm, then Grimmjow's tongue was burning hot.

Later, Ichigo would kick himself for doing it, but at that moment, he couldn't help it. He  _moaned_  into Grimmjow's mouth. Grimmjow held his face with one hand while the other still held him by the waist, and he didn't stop kissing him until Ichigo thought he was going to spontaneously combust. When Grimmjow finally pulled away, Ichigo's heart was hammering so wildly in his chest that he was certain that everyone around him could hear it.

"Mmm," Grimmjow purred, licking his lips, then he looked up at Sosuke. "What were you saying again?"

Ichigo would've burst into laughter at the look on Sosuke's face if he wasn't so stunned himself. The brown-haired man looked like Grimmjow had slapped him in the face, his face bright red, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that it looked like it might snap.

"I see," he said stiffly. He looked at Ichigo with an unreadable expression. Then, he turned and stalked off with his friend in tow.

* * *

" _That's_  your idea of 'helping' me?" Ichigo practically yelled, flinging his arms in the air.

After he came back to his senses, he'd immediately dragged Grimmjow back to their dorm room. He could not believe what just happened. That was his first kiss, damn it! He could feel dozens of eyes on him as he fled the student union, he was absolutely mortified.

Grimmjow leaned against the bed frame with his arms crossed over his chest, his lips curled in a smirk. He looked at Ichigo with a hint of amusement in his eyes as the boy flapped his arms and paced around the room like an agitated chicken.

"It worked," he said, shrugging. "He walked away, didn't he?"

"That's beside the point!" Ichigo exclaimed, pulling at his hair. "You can't just simply…kiss someone like that!"

The grin returned on Grimmjow's face. "Why? You seemed to like it."

Ichigo wanted to bang his head against the wall. He knew he would never live that down. He knew that Grimmjow had heard his moan, and now the bastard was rubbing it in his face.

"That's…" Ichigo started, then he paused. "…beside the point." he finished lamely.

Grimmjow chuckled as Ichigo began to blush again. "If he still doesn't get it, we'll do it again. When he finally realizes that you're not available, he'll give up eventually."

"Do it again?" Ichigo echoed, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yeah." Grimmjow shook out a cigarette from his pack and stuck it in his mouth. Ichigo couldn't help staring at that mouth - the one that had just kissed him not fifteen minutes ago.

Ichigo tried to understand Grimmjow's logic. "Are you suggesting that we pretend to be a couple?"

Grimmjow blew a puff of smoke right into Ichigo's face, who immediately coughed and waved his hands in front of him. "You got a better idea?" Grimmjow asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I…" Ichigo blurted.

"Well, it's the only one I got," Grimmjow blew another puff of smoke towards Ichigo. "Take it or leave it."

Ichigo stared at his roommate, seriously torn between laughing and crying. This had got to be the stupidest idea in the world, but he already knew his answer.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	5. Chapter 5

For the first time since he set foot in this boring college town, Grimmjow actually woke up looking forward to the day. He had been worried that he would eventually sprout mold from the top of his head one day, but yesterday proved that he was going to have quite a bit of  _fun_  from now on.

The look on his roommate's face was priceless when he finally let go of the kid's waist. At first the boy had looked like a deer caught in a pair of headlights, his eyes wide and mouth agape like an idiot, then he had turned beet red like the virgin he probably was. Grimmjow could feel Ichigo trembling against his body, and it had taken all his will not to laugh into the kid's mouth when he kissed him.

Grimmjow hadn't planned on doing that, not at all. When he told Ichigo that he'd "think of something", he really didn't know what he was going to do. It just so happened that the student union was on his way back; he had just finished lunch with Tessai, and was heading back to his dorm room. When he saw Ichigo pressed against the wall with that brunet in his face, his first reaction had been to snort in laughter, then the brilliant idea just popped into his head.

He didn't know what he was expecting when he did that, really. Maybe a slap in the face, or a knee in the groin, who knew? But oh man, that  _moan?_  No, he had not expected that at all. Talk about an ego boost. And the look on the brunet's face - that was just the proverbial cherry on top of the icing. Grimmjow recognized the type - rich, pompous spoiled brat who thought everyone should worship the ground he walked on. It had been  _so_  satisfying to see the surprise and anger on that face. This won't be the only time they would butt heads, Grimmjow could tell.

He snickered to himself as he slowly made his way down the ladder from the upper bunk. His boring life here was beginning to look a little brighter; he got to tease the hell out of the orange-haired kid  _and_  kick that arrogant bastard's ass, what had he done to deserve the pleasure?

As Grimmjow tied the sash of his silk robe around his waist, he yawned and looked around the room. Ichigo wasn't here, of course; he had gone to class hours ago. Grimmjow felt a sense of restlessness and excitement well in his chest as he began to cook up things to do in his head. This was childish and immature, he knew as much, but it was  _fun_.

Postponing his plan for a shower, Grimmjow went to Ichigo's desk and slid into the chair. He pulled the kid's laptop towards himself and booted it up. He had seen Ichigo use that thing enough times to know that it didn't have a password. It was very careless of Ichigo, if you ask him, but what the hell, he wasn't the kid's babysitter so he was going to keep his mouth shut.

Grimmjow made a face at the too-cute wallpaper that appeared once the computer was ready, then he scanned the file system for what he needed. If Ichigo was as organized with his laptop as he was with his clothes, this shouldn't be too hard. Sure enough, not ten seconds later, Grimmjow found the folder he was looking for. It was aptly named "Classes" - no surprises there, and within that folder, were four other folders that were named after the classes that Ichigo was taking that semester.

A few more minutes on the university website later, Grimmjow knew Ichigo's class schedule by heart. With a chuckle, he turned the laptop off and stood up, finally ready for that shower.

He was  _so_  looking forward to the rest of the day.

* * *

Ichigo squirmed in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs for the umpteenth time within the hour. He wished that the lecture would just be over already.

He'd had a dream last night. One that he could still feel and see even now, and it was all thanks to the a certain blue-haired idiot. He still couldn't believe that Grimmjow had stolen his first kiss just like that. He didn't tell the guy that it was his first, of course; that stupid moan alone had been embarrassing enough. Unfortunately, that wasn't where his problems ended.

Some time during the middle of the night, his mind had taken that little kiss and blown it up into something a whole lot more unforgettable. He had woken up that morning with a sizable tent in his boxers, and he hadn't been able to rinse the images from his mind. As it was, he couldn't be more thankful that he could put a heavy textbook in his lap right now.

To add to his discomfort, he could feel Sosuke's laser-like gaze boring into the back of his skull throughout the entire lecture. He had hoped that Grimmjow was wrong, that Sosuke had gotten the message and would leave him alone. But his hope had died when Sosuke gave him a smirk, along with a cocked eyebrow, as he walked past Ichigo before class began.

At long last, just as Ichigo thought he couldn't wait any longer, the professor finally cleared his throat and announced that class was over. Ichigo let out a sigh and, after subtly adjusting his pants, stood up with his backpack slung over one shoulder. He walked down the aisle, joining the flow of the rest of the departing students. He smiled and waved when he caught sight of Shinji and Shuuhei making their way towards the line in front.

"Goddamn, that was boring," Shinji grumbled when Ichigo caught up to them at the entrance of the auditorium.

Shuuhei snorted and mumbled something degrading under his breath, promptly earning himself a jab in the ribs from the blonde. Ichigo chuckled, his mood lifting slightly, but before he could say anything, a hand clamped down on his shoulder from behind. Surprised, he turned around, as did Shinji and Shuuhei, who heard the startled sound that slipped out of his mouth involuntarily.

"Have you reconsidered, Ichigo?" Sosuke asked in that deep, silky voice of his, looking as though nothing had happened yesterday.

Ichigo pursed his lips in annoyance. "No," he replied, forgoing courtesy.

Sosuke looked as if he was going to say something in return, but then his eyes suddenly narrowed. Ichigo was confused for a moment, then he felt a pair of arms slip around his waist from behind.

"Hey, babe, have you missed me?" Grimmjow purred into Ichigo's hair.

Ichigo froze, feeling like a prey caught between two predators. Even being distracted by the heat from Grimmjow's body pressing against his back, he could sense the rising tension around the three of them. He couldn't see Grimmjow's face, but he imagined that his roommate was grinning, judging from the tone of his voice.

Sosuke let out a soft "hmph" and rolled his eyes in distaste, but remained standing in front of Ichigo as if to challenge Grimmjow.

Grimmjow brushed his lips against the tip of Ichigo's ear and whispered, "I asked you a question." It was just loud enough for Ichigo to hear, and he blushed at the thought of what Grimmjow was expecting him to do. To Sosuke, it must've looked like Grimmjow had just said something lewd to Ichigo, because the brunet's eyes narrowed further.

"Y-yes," Ichigo said, hoping that he sounded at least a tiny bit convincing.

Grimmjow chuckled - a low, rumbling sound that threatened to fry Ichigo's brain, then Ichigo felt his roommate nuzzle his hair. His cheeks heated up as his mind conjured up the images of what the two of them must look like now.

Sosuke frowned, clearly not very satisfied with Ichigo's answer. For a terrifying moment, Ichigo thought a fight would break out between the two taller men, but then Sosuke shook his head and walked away. The way his gaze lingered on Ichigo, though, made it clear that this wasn't the end.

As soon as the brunet was out of earshot, Ichigo immediately untangled himself from his roommate and shot him a glare. "What are you doing here?"

"This is the thanks I get for saving your ass?" Grimmjow asked, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

Ichigo rubbed his face in exasperation. He wouldn't exactly call this "saving his ass", but at least he did escape from Sosuke. "Thanks, I suppose," he said grudgingly. He was going to grumble some more, but the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted him. His heart sank as he realized that he'd completely forgotten about Shinji and Shuuhei, who had, based on the stunned expression on their faces, seen the entire exchange.

"You never told us you had a boyfriend," Shinji pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Before Ichigo could correct the blonde, Grimmjow flashed his friends a wide grin and said, "'Cause he's shy."

Ichigo immediately bristled. "Shut up!" he said indignantly, silently swearing that he would give his roommate a talking-to later that night. "He's  _not_  my boyfriend!" When Shinji merely gave him a skeptical look, Ichigo rolled his eyes and groaned, "It's a long story, okay? I'll tell you guys later." Then, before Grimmjow could do any more damage, he grabbed the boy's wrist and dragged him away from his friends.

"Listen," Ichigo hissed fiercely. "We need to  _talk_  about this when I get back tonight, now will you  _please_  go away before I die of shame?" He stared into Grimmjow's eyes to make sure that he got his message, but to his dismay, those clear blue eyes only sparkled brighter with mischief.

Ichigo was on the verge of  _begging_  when Grimmjow finally laughed and said, "Alright alright, I'll leave you alone with Barbie and Ken."

"Barbie and K-what?" Ichigo began to say, then, deciding that he'd rather not prolong the conversation, he rolled his eyes and turned to walk away, only to yelp in surprise when he felt a stinging smack on his butt. Eyes widening in disbelief, he covered his rear with both hands and turned around to yell at Grimmjow, but the idiot was already running away, laughing loudly as he went.

Ichigo had never had the urge to hurt someone before, but now he seriously wanted to wrap his hands around Grimmjow's neck and strangle him until his face turned as blue as his hair.

As he marched stiffly up to his friends, Ichigo knew that he wouldn't be allowed to leave their side until he spit out the entire story. And so he did, starting from that disastrous date with Sosuke and Grimmjow's offer to help.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Shuuhei stated flatly after Ichigo was done.

Shinji, on the other hand, practically squealed in delight. "Are you kidding me? This is the  _greatest_  idea ever!" He grabbed Ichigo by the shoulders and asked with a serious face, "So, was he a good kisser?"

Ichigo groaned and buried his face in his palms. If accepting Grimmjow's "help" was his biggest mistake, telling Shinji about it was the obvious runner-up.

* * *

By the time the third week rolled by, Ichigo had become almost numb to Grimmjow's antics.  _Almost_.

He said  _almost_  because he still couldn't control the way he would blush whenever Grimmjow teased him. Grimmjow hadn't kissed him on the mouth ever since that one time at the student union, but he hugged and slipped his hands around Ichigo shamelessly, like he owned him. Every time that happened, Ichigo's face would light up like he had a hot flash.

His attempts at discussing the issue with Grimmjow had all died a quiet death; his pleas simply went in through one ear and flowed out the other. After a week, Ichigo admitted defeat and resigned himself to the fact that he'd just have to get used to it.

Grimmjow would wait for him after almost every class, even the ones that he didn't share with Sosuke. When he asked why, his roommate just shrugged and said that it was to make things "realistic", which Ichigo thought was a load of bull. He realized that he had become Grimmjow's favorite entertainment, and he was pretty much stuck until Grimmjow got tired of it. He had to admit, though, that this so-called strategy was working. Sosuke had stopped talking to him, even though he could still feel the brunet stare at him during class. The fact that he was somehow the object of obsession of two guys should be flattering, but he didn't feel flattered at all.

Over the weeks, Grimmjow had been hanging around Ichigo so often that even Shuuhei and Shinji had gotten used to his presence. While they didn't really consider him a friend, they tolerated him when he was around. But that never stopped Shinji from laughing at Ichigo from time to time, telling him that he looked like a school girl in love whenever Grimmjow made him all flustered and annoyed.

The saddest part of it all, though, was that there was some truth in that.  _No_ , Ichigo was  _not_ in love like Shinji said, but he couldn't deny that Grimmjow's hands… _did things_  to him. He didn't know how the guy did it, because even the simplest, most casual touch affected him. His heart would flutter just a little faster, his breath would become a little harsher; not a whole lot, but enough for him to feel it. It irritated him to no end knowing that he could be so easily played. This was nothing but a joke to Grimmjow, so why was he so bothered by it? It wasn't like he even  _liked_  the guy. Grimmjow was an asshole, he just happened to have really amazing hands, that's all.

As he walked down the hallway towards his room, Ichigo cursed inwardly as his face warmed up again at the memory of another one of his many dreams that had been plaguing him lately. He blamed it on his own inexperience. He had never been in a relationship in his life; he'd had crushes, sure, but had never gotten close enough to anyone to be touched like this. He knew it was nothing to be ashamed of, but sometimes he felt like such a loser for not having even held hands or kissed someone before. To be honest, he felt a little resentful that his first kiss had been with someone who didn't even like him. It had felt good, but knowing that it was all part of a hoax, a joke, had ruined it.

With that depressing thought in mind, Ichigo arrived in front of his room. Sighing, he stuck his key in the keyhole and turned the door knob.

"Nghhh…"

Ichigo's head snapped up, and for moment, he thought his jaw was going to drop to his feet.

There, on  _his_  bed, was a moving, moaning lump. A head of black hair, cut into a fashionable bob, stuck out from the covers. The person was sitting up and wrapped in Ichigo's blanket, showing only the head and top of the shoulders. It was a woman, judging from the slender curve of the neck and shoulders, and she was moving up and down slowly and making the most erotic sounds Ichigo had ever heard. Virgin or not, Ichigo had no problem understanding what was going on  _on his bed_. A rougher, deeper moan confirmed his suspicion of who was underneath the woman.

Ichigo turned to flee, but in his haste, he ended up bumping into the door frame. The woman turned her head just enough for Ichigo to catch a glimpse of a delicate nose and a pointy chin, along with long, colorful feathers that adorned her eyelashes. There was no doubt that Grimmjow had heard Ichigo, but instead of stopping, he bucked his hips, wringing a loud, needy moan from the woman. She turned back to Grimmjow and seemed to forget about Ichigo's presence as another hard thrust jolted her upwards, causing the blanket to slide down slightly, exposing a portion of a pale, slim arm.

Eyes wide in horror and embarrassment, Ichigo made another attempt to flee, and this time he succeeded, almost tripping over himself as he practically ran out from his room. He slammed the door behind him and went to the nearest bathroom, absolutely fuming inside. How  _dare_  he? It was one thing to have sex in the room, although Ichigo would've appreciated a warning of some sort on the door, but to do it in his bed? That was just unacceptable.

Angry and scarred from what he had just witnessed, Ichigo turned the faucet to the max and splashed cold water on his face, hoping to douse the fire that was raging on his cheeks. He was  _so_  going to kill his roommate today.

The worst part was that his brain had decided to latch on to the sound that Grimmjow made earlier, and was currently replaying it happily inside his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to calm down. This was normal, completely normal. It wasn't uncommon for roommates to accidentally walk in on each other, he told himself. He had heard of stories like this before. So what if Grimmjow slept with someone? So what if Grimmjow preferred women? He was only upset because Grimmjow used his bed. It wasn't because he felt disappointed. It wasn't because he felt jealous. Absolutely not.

With nowhere else to go, he hung around the bathroom for another half an hour or so, then, deciding that it was more than enough time for Grimmjow to finish the deed, he stalked back to his room. This time, he pressed his ear against the door and listened carefully before he entered. He didn't hear anything, so he carefully twisted the door knob and opened the door.

His bed was in disarray, the blanket rumpled and pushed to the side of the bed, and he could see the dent in the sheets where Grimmjow had lain. The man of the hour was standing at the window, clad only in boxers. A thin trail of smoke rose from the cigarette held loosely between his lips.

"Why'd you do it in my bed?" Ichigo demanded, his voice raised in anger.

Grimmjow looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as though he'd asked a stupid question. "I can't do it in mine, can I? The bed frame would probably break."

This wasn't supposed to be funny, but Ichigo suddenly pictured their double decker bunk bed collapsing under the combined weight of Grimmjow and his lover. To his chagrin, he felt a giggle crawling up his throat, and his lips began to twitch involuntarily. Annoyed at himself, Ichigo pursed his lips. He  _would not_  laugh. What Grimmjow did was wrong, and it wasn't the least bit funny.

Ichigo took a few deep breaths to chase away his urge to laugh. "Well, at least have the decency to wash my bedsheets," he ended up saying. It came out with less heat than he would've liked, but at least he said it with a straight face.

"What?" Grimmjow plucked his cigarette from his mouth and made a face. "Why?"

"What do you mean  _why?_ " Ichigo said, incredulous. "You… _did stuff_  on it. It's dirty now!"

Grimmjow frowned. "It's not dirty," he said, looking offended. "Nothing leaked or anything."

"Oh god no." Ichigo clamped his hands over his ears and groaned. "I don't want to know the details, just…go and wash it, please!"

Perhaps it was the exasperation in Ichigo's voice, or perhaps Grimmjow actually felt a little sorry for what he did, though the latter was quite unlikely, the blue-haired teenager straightened up and sighed. He took another deep pull of his cigarette, then stubbed it out on the window sill and tossed it into the waste basket. Ichigo shifted aside and watched his roommate gather up the soiled sheets and blanket grudgingly.

As the door clicked closed after Grimmjow left the room, dragging one corner of Ichigo's blanket on the carpeted floor as he went, Ichigo sank into his bare mattress. That idiot, whether Ichigo liked it or not, was going to be the death of him one day.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	6. Chapter 6

Grimmjow was tempted to kick the washer. Or tear the stupid blanket into strips. Either way, he had spent far too long trying to stuff his roommate's laundry into the front-loading washer. Every time he thought he had everything inside, something would flop out as soon as he reached for the washer lid.

What a lousy way to end an otherwise awesome day. He didn't see what the big deal was; why did he have to wash the sheets just because he had sex on it? Was that how it worked in the Kurosaki household? Grimmjow chuckled at the dilemma - he'd either have to do laundry every day, or not get any just because he was too lazy to do laundry. It must be awkward as hell being Ichigo's parents, having an announcement system like that. Grimmjow shuddered at the idea.

Naturally, it never occurred to him that Ichigo only forced him to clean his sheets because it was  _he_  who soiled the sheets and not Ichigo himself. But that was beside the point.

After hurling another string of curses at the inanimate object, Grimmjow finally managed to close the door of the washing machine. He quickly dropped in the quarters needed to get the machine going, and then he leaned back against the wall in the laundry room. He should probably head back to the room instead of waiting here, but he was not exactly in the mood to face his roommate right now.

He rubbed his face absently. What a lousy way to end the day indeed. It had begun well enough; he'd managed to get lucky when he was playing pool yesterday and had met someone who was perfect one-night-stand material - attractive, straightforward, and eager. It was easy enough to get it going; no strings attached and all that jazz, then they'd made arrangements to meet up at Grimmjow's room this afternoon. Grimmjow knew Ichigo's schedule like the back of his hand by now, so he had been certain that he wouldn't be interrupted. But his partner was surprisingly insatiable, and before Grimmjow knew it, they'd ended up using more time than he'd planned.

Still, everything was going great…until Ichigo barged in. Even though he was blocked by his partner, he still managed to catch a glimpse of the boy's shocked expression. The dusting of pink that appeared immediately across Ichigo's cheeks and nose bridge was predictable and amusing as always, except this time Grimmjow couldn't tease the kid about it, because what happened next was  _not_  funny at all. He blamed it on Ichigo's unexpected appearance; it fucked with his head, probably caused a minor short-circuit in there.

Whatever it was, it had caused Grimmjow to make a fool of himself. After Ichigo left, things heated up a notch. Grimmjow had never had anyone ride him with such passion before, and it felt so good that he thought he was going to black out when he finally came.

There was only one problem: he'd screamed  _Ichigo's_ name as he did so.

He didn't even realize he'd done it until he felt a stinging slap across his face, and then his fuck buddy practically jumped off of him and stormed out of the room. After that, he had spent almost fifteen minutes sitting on the edge of Ichigo's bed wondering what the hell could've led to something so damn humiliating. Even now, as he listened to the steady hum of the washer, he still couldn't get over the fact that he had done that.

Well, one thing was for certain, he won't be getting any from this buddy again. It was okay, though, this one wasn't really his type anyway - the waist and hips were too thin, the shoulders too angular, the fingers too delicate. He preferred somebody with a little bit more meat; lean and fit but not too muscular, slender but not bony. Someone like Ichigo-

Grimmjow froze at the thought. Did he really just think that?

"Shit," he thought out loud as he realized in horror that he  _did._

He needed to stop overreacting. It was just a mix-up, it was not a big deal that he'd imagined that it was Ichigo on top of him right before he came. He was just confused because Ichigo happened to be there when he was nearing his climax, and his head got messed up. He was over-analyzing things, there was nothing wrong with him.

Yeah, it was completely normal. He was  _so_  not attracted to his idiot roommate. Not the slightest bit.

* * *

Ichigo woke up to the jarring sound of his alarm. He shot up straight, feeling confused and disoriented. When had he gone to sleep? He didn't remember taking a shower and changing into his pajamas. Ichigo shook his head lightly to clear the last traces of sleep from his mind.

Ah, he remembered now, he had been waiting for Grimmjow to wash his sheets and blanket. He must've dozed off while he was waiting. He wouldn't be surprised if the idiot had taken the opportunity to slack off and not clean his stuff because he was asleep. It would be just like Grimmjow to pull something like this.

Feeling annoyed, he threw the covers off of himself and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, then he paused.

Covers?

Ichigo blinked and reached for it. It was his blanket alright, the one Grimmjow was supposed to wash. Cautiously, against his better judgement, Ichigo brought the blanket to his nose and sniffed. It smelled fresh; he recognized his own lavender-scented detergent.

Ichigo immediately felt ashamed of himself. So Grimmjow  _had_  washed them after all. Not only that, he had even covered Ichigo with his blanket. This was a miracle, he never would have guessed that his roommate was capable of actually being normal for a change.

He supposed he should thank the guy. Slowly, he stepped away from their double decker bed and hopped a little, trying to see if Grimmjow was still in his bed, but he couldn't really see much. Sometimes one of Grimmjow's arms would dangle over the side of the bed when he slept, but there was no arm today. Feeling silly after jumping a few more times, Ichigo stopped and strained to listen for the sound of breathing. After a few seconds, he decided that he was alone in the room. He would just have to thank Grimmjow another time, then.

So what was last night all about? Ichigo wondered as he folded his blanket. Was that Grimmjow's girlfriend? He'd never seen Grimmjow with anyone, really, and Grimmjow wasn't exactly the subtle type. He would've known if Grimmjow was dating anyone. So what was this? A fling? A one-night-stand? Ichigo didn't know what to think. In the end, he simply decided  _not_  to think about it. He'd very much rather pretend that he never saw anything.

After a hasty shower and breakfast, Ichigo met Shinji and Shuuhei at the entrance of the student union and walked to their computer programming class together. He was glad that he shared three out of his four classes with the two of them. He didn't see much of Hanatarou and Rangiku, but he was quickly becoming close to Shinji and Shuuhei. It was easy to get along with them; Shinji was a bit of a drama queen but he was funny and kind, while Shuuhei had a dry sense of humor and down to earth.

"Any plans for the long weekend?" Shuuhei asked as they walked.

Ichigo shook his head. "Not really," he said. "Finish my assignments, surf the net, talk to my sisters…I guess. You?"

Shinji snorted and rolled his eyes. "That's  _so_  lame, Ichigo."

"Sounds like you have nothing to do," Shuuhei said, grinning at Ichigo. "Do you wanna come over to my place? I'm actually hosting a party, just a few people…we're just gonna sleep over, play games and stuff, nothing too crazy. Interested?"

Ichigo's face lit up at the invitation. "Yeah! Sure!" He knew that Shuuhei lived off campus with Rangiku and a couple of friends, but he'd never met them.

"A word of warning, though," Shuuhei said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "My roommates are kinda…how I should put it? Mmm… _loud."_

"Oh, understatement of the year," Shinji muttered.

Shuuhei shot him a dirty look. "Fine, don't come, then."

Shinji immediately made a face and stuck out his tongue with as much maturity as a five year old. Ichigo snickered. Judging from Shuuhei and Shinji's personalities, he could only imagine what their friends were like.

He was looking forward to the weekend already.

* * *

When Saturday rolled along, Ichigo made his way to the bus stop in front of the student union. He, Shinji and Hanatarou had made arrangements to meet there in the morning, then they would catch the bus and head over to Shuuhei's apartment together. He was feeling quite excited, really. The past few weeks had been stressful, what with tests and homework, not to mention having to deal with Grimmjow and Sosuke.

Shuuhei had actually extended his invitation to Grimmjow as well, but Ichigo had declined at once. This was a rare chance to get away from his roommate for a few days, he wasn't going to ruin that for himself. Shinji and Hanatarou, though, were bringing their roommates along. Ichigo still remembered how the two of them had complained about their roommates on orientation day, but in the end, they had gotten along with them alright after all. Ichigo hadn't met them yet, but he was looking forward to it.

Ichigo leaned against the pole beneath the bus stop sign and waited for his friends, who were, of course, late as usual. Whenever Shinji was involved, nothing would ever start on time. It was always his hair, or his shirt, or something or other that nobody else would ever notice.

Then, just as Ichigo was reaching into his back pocket to fish out his cell phone, he spied four figures approaching - two blondes walking side-by-side, followed by a really short teen, and right next to him, a really,  _really_  tall one. Pushing away from the pole, Ichigo straightened up and waved.

"Took you guys long enough," Ichigo teased as his friends were finally within hearing distance.

"Shinji-kun," the blonde next to Shinji said quietly, confirming Ichigo's suspicion.

Ichigo had no problem identifying the stranger; he was exactly as Shinji had described - from the soft, gentle voice to the half-lidded eyes, Kira Izuru was how Ichigo had imagined him to be.

"Shortie here overslept too," the other new face, the lanky teenager, complained loudly.

Amused by the defeated look on Hanatarou's face, Ichigo chuckled. He also had no problem identifying Hanatarou's roommate, Nnoitra Jiruga. The boy was unnaturally tall with a long torso and skinny limbs. His straight black hair flowed past his shoulders, reaching his prominent collarbones and partially obscuring the upturned collars of his white polo shirt.

A round of introductions later, the bus they were waiting for finally rolled up to the bus stop. When they arrived at their destination, Shuuhei was waiting for them at the entrance, then he led them up to the third floor. Even before they were half way up the stairs from the second floor, Ichigo could hear shrieks of laughter floating from the hallway. Judging by the grimace on Shuuhei's face, that must be coming from his apartment.

Recognizing the voice, Shinji let out a loud whoop and sped off, abandoning the rest of them. By the time they got to the apartment, the blonde was already settled on the couch, chatting happily with Rangiku.

"Dude, are you trying to get us evicted?" Shuuhei yelled as he stomped into the living room. Walking up to the bald-headed young man sitting in front of the TV, he aimed his foot at the guy's ribs and kicked.

"Fuck!" the victim yelped, losing his grip on the XBOX controller that he was holding. "You stupid fuck! If I lose this game I'm gonna make you pay!"

Shuuhei rolled his eyes. "Nnoitra, Izuru, Ichigo, meet the alpha idiot of the house, Madarame Ikkaku," he said, giving his friend another kick in the ribs.

Ichigo looked on in amazement as Ikkaku jumped to his feet and tackled Shuuhei to the floor.

"Don't worry about them," Rangiku giggled at the shocked expression on the three visitors' faces. "They do this all the time. Make yourselves at home!"

Nodding, Ichigo dumped his backpack against the wall and sat down next to it, making sure that he was a safe distance away from the two snarling teenagers on the floor. Izuru looked uncertain for a while before quietly making his way to the couch and sitting down next to Shinji. Nnoitra, on the other hand, mumbled something about needing to take a dump and headed towards the back of the apartment on his own.

"Do you want a drink?" Hanatarou asked, tapping Ichigo lightly on his shoulder. "I can take you to the kitchen."

Ichigo accepted the boy's offer and got to his feet, more to avoid getting dragged into the senseless violence still raging in the living room than anything.

"I haven't checked, but I think they have soft drinks in the fridge," Hanatarou said sheepishly as they stepped into the kitchen.

"Yes, yes, we do," came a voice. The owner had his head stuck halfway inside the fridge, and Ichigo could hear the clinking sound of glass bottles being moved around.

This must be the fourth roommate, Ichigo thought as he walked up to the fridge.

"Here you go," Shuuhei's roommate said, then he straightened up and turned around, holding two Coke bottles in his hands.

Ichigo froze in his tracks and stared at the person standing in front of him. He couldn't really recognize the facial features, but there was no mistaking the voice and those damn feathers on the boy's eyelashes.

"You!" Ichigo blurted. He didn't know which was more shocking; the fact that Grimmjow slept with Shuuhei's roommate, or that the "woman" he thought Grimmjow had slept with was  _not_ , in fact, a woman.

"You," the boy echoed flatly. He took a step back and gave Ichigo a once-over with a critical frown on his face, as if Ichigo was a store mannequin and he was a skeptical buyer.

Hanatarou's eyes widened as he sensed something between the two teenagers. It was clear that they recognized each other, but to what extent, Hanatarou could not tell. What he _could_  tell, though, was that tension was rising in the kitchen, and he had no idea why. Not liking the turn of events, he said hastily, "Ichigo, this is Yumichika. Yumi, this is Ichigo."

The boy known as Yumichika pursed his lips. "Ichigo," he said slowly.

Ichigo's skin crawled at the way Yumichika seemed to roll his name on his tongue. "Nice to meet you, Yumichika," Ichigo said tentatively. Yumichika just kept staring at him, like he was appraising a piece of art, and Ichigo found himself bristling under the unwavering gaze. Shouldn't the guy be the one who was feeling uncomfortable? After all, Ichigo saw _him_  getting it on with Grimmjow, not the other way around.

"Is something wrong?" Ichigo asked, forcing himself to sound more polite than he was feeling. This was Shuuhei's roommate after all.

Yumichika stared at him for a few more seconds, then he flipped his hair back and shook his head. "Nothing," he said with an air of nonchalance that did not quite match the look on his face. "Here you go." He extended a slender arm and offered one of the Coke bottles to Ichigo.

Ichigo accepted it and thanked him. Yumichika flashed him a small smile and gave the other bottle to Hanatarou, then he gave them a wave and walked out of the kitchen. Naturally, Ichigo had no way of knowing the true reason behind Yumichika's strange behavior, and Yumichika had every intention to keep it that way. He would die before letting anyone know that one of his partners screamed someone else's name while having sex with him. But he had to admit - albeit grudgingly - that Ichigo was quite hot, even if the boy was not nearly as beautiful as he was.

Once Yumichika was out of earshot, Hanatarou gave Ichigo a questioning look, to which Ichigo simply shrugged. The last thing he wanted to do was to tell anybody about what he'd seen. Hanatarou didn't look convinced, but he was kind enough to leave it at that.

Luckily for Ichigo, the rest of the day went by much smoother. As they mingled, Yumuchika's icy demeanor eventually melted, and Ichigo found himself warming up to his new friends. Soon, the party was in full swing, and Ichigo let his stress roll off his shoulder. Nothing was going to stop him from enjoying this weekend getaway.

* * *

Grimmjow cracked his eyes open reluctantly. He didn't want to leave the comfort of his bed, but he was getting bored. He stole a quick look at his watch and groaned when he saw that it was already past two in the afternoon.

It was kind of strange without Ichigo around in the room. At first it was awesome; he could parade around the room naked without being nagged, and he could watch porn and turn up the volume as loud as he wanted to without being glared at. But that could only stay interesting for so long.

Sighing, he swung his legs over the side and climbed down the ladder from his bunk. There was absolutely nothing to do. He had some assignments that were due in a few days, but he rarely ever did them anyway. Sometimes he wondered how he managed to still stay in school. He hardly attended his classes, and when he did, it was only because they were sort of "on the way" from or to Ichigo's lecture halls. Maybe his father pulled some strings to keep him there, he wouldn't be surprised if that really was the case.

Grimmjow pulled his lips back in a sneer at the thought of his family. He'd been here for close to two months, and besides one short-lived phone call from Ulquiorra, his family never contacted him. Ichigo, on the other hand, chatted with his family through Skype almost every night. Grimmjow never understood how Ichigo could have so many things to talk about with his younger sisters and his loud-mouthed father.

The only reason Ulquiorra called was to inform him that their mother had a fainting spell one day. So what if she did? Grimmjow was so used to it by now, he didn't see the point of his brother telling him about it. She was always in and out of hospitals anyway, and never came out from it looking any worse or better than before. Sometimes it seemed almost like a ploy to get attention from Grimmjow's father. On top of that, just hearing Ulquiorra's monotonic voice was enough to make Grimmjow hang up in the middle of the call. The fact that he didn't call back again only confirmed Grimmjow's suspicion that it was just another one of his mother's attempt to get pity from her sons. It was pathetic, really.

After pacing around the room aimlessly for a few minutes, Grimmjow decided that his time could be better spent with Tessai, as usual. He grabbed his shower necessities and left for the bathroom. Tessai's apartment was not all that exciting, but at least there would be TV and decent food.

If he was lucky today, Tessai might forget to nag him about his relationship with his family.

* * *

Two Bruce Willis action movies later, Grimmjow's head was about ready to burst. Tessai loved home theatre systems with a passion, and Grimmjow had made the mistake of sitting too close to the subwoofer. It didn't help that he's also taken advantage of the older man's weakness to say no to him, and managed to finish two whole bottles of beer before Tessai finally put his foot down.

"You're staying here tonight," Tessai announced, his deep voice bouncing around painfully inside Grimmjow's skull.

Grimmjow scowled. "I'm fine," he insisted. "I'll be walking back, not driving."

Tessai returned his scowl with just as much ferocity. "You are staying here," he repeated.

"And I said no!" Grimmjow said, picking himself off the floor slowly. His head pounded a little louder when he moved, but he hid his grimace. Sure, he loved Tessai and all, but sometimes the man had the tendency to forget that Grimmjow was eighteen, not eight.

"You can't even stand properly," Tessai pointed out as he crossed his arms across his chest.

Grimmjow deepened his scowl and pulled himself to his full height, successfully staying on his feet as he stood up straight. "You gotta stop babying me, old man," he grumbled, his patience beginning to fray.

Tessai seemed to detect it too. After a few seconds of intense staring, he flung his arms up and muttered something along the lines of "childish and stubborn". Grimmjow couldn't help grinning; he knew that Tessai would eventually let him win if he deemed the topic wasn't serious enough, and that was just one of the many reasons he loved and respected this man more than his own parents. Instead of blindly forcing him bend to his will no matter how meaningless it was, Tessai used his judgement depending on the circumstances. When things were serious, he wasn't a pushover, and Grimmjow had learned to recognize and respect that boundary.

He shrugged into his jacket and let Tessai walk him out of the building, pausing only to give the man a quick, manly hug. Then he walked off into the streets. It was close to midnight, but the street lamps were on, so he could navigate his way without any problems.

He was about half way into his walk back to the campus when he thought he heard footsteps behind him. Stopping, Grimmjow turned around and squinted, his eyes searching the shadows for movements on the street and around the surrounding buildings, but nothing seemed out of place. The street was completely empty aside from himself. Shrugging, he turned back and continued on his way.

Barely two minutes later, he heard another rustling sound behind him. This time, he whipped his head around immediately, only to regret it when his body protested the sudden movement by sending a sharp jolt of pain up his neck. Grimacing, he scanned his surroundings. There was still nothing. It was quiet except for the sound of his own breathing. Despite the silence, he felt his pulse quicken a fraction.  _Something_  was close by, even if he couldn't see it. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, his internal alarm warning him that something was off.

Grimmjow cursed under his breath. This was ridiculous, he was acting like a chick in a horror movie. He turned a full circle again just to make sure that he was alone, then he relaxed slightly and began to walk again. Five minutes later, he stopped in his tracks and frowned.

About one block down from him, a section of the street was unlit. His eyes flicked to the street light - looked like a busted bulb or something.

He weighed his options. Something wasn't right, but he would never live it down if he turned back to Tessai's apartment now. He wanted to continue walking - it was just a short stretch after all - but his internal alarm was now shrieking so loudly that he could feel the hair on his arms stand.

Decisions, decisions.

He could turn back and suffer a bruised ego, or he could be a man and go on. The darkened section was not that large, and he could see the next brightly lit street lamp on the next block. It was a three minute walk in the dark, tops.

He squared his shoulders. Why the hell was he so scared? It made  _no_ sense. He took in a deep breath and shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. He was  _not_  turning back.

The minute he set foot into the dark, he felt a shiver slither up his spine. He didn't understand his body's reaction; he could see nothing wrong, so why was he freaking out? He inhaled deeply and walked faster. His eyes was beginning to adjust to the darkness, and he was secretly relieved to see that he was still alone. There were no monsters or hidden assailants or stray cats that was going to shoot out and land on him. Everything was silent and peaceful. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat going "thump, thump, thump" in his chest.

Then, he heard footsteps  _in front_  of him.

Grimmjow froze. He wasn't imagining things this time. There was a dark figure a few feet away from him. A man, judging from the vague outline.

"What do you want," he said. He felt pleased when his voice came out steady and firm.

The figure shifted but remained silent. Then, a few seconds later, the man stepped towards him. As the man got closer, Grimmjow's eyes widened. He recognized this man. He didn't know his  _name_ , but he had seen him countless of times. The man had braids that hung loosely over his forehead, and he was wearing sunglasses even though it was pitch black. The glasses, coupled with his dark skin, and the fact that he was wearing black from head to toe, helped him blend into the darkness.

"Why are you following me?" Grimmjow asked.

The man cocked his head to the side. "How am I  _following_  you if I'm  _in front_ of you?" he asked, sounding slightly amused.

Grimmjow balled his hands into fists inside his pockets. That's true, and it could only mean one thing. He turned slowly to look behind him.

"I am impressed," a deep, silky voice said, followed by the sound of clapping. "You're more observant than I expected."

The unsynchronized pattering of feet on concrete suggested that there were more than one person approaching. Three, maybe even four.

"Hiding in the dark. Very brave of you, Aizen Sosuke," Grimmjow spat in disgust.

"This is called being cautious," Sosuke replied, finally close enough for Grimmjow to see his face. "I'm looking for  _you_ , not the entire neighborhood." He curled his lips into a smirk. "For a moment I thought I was going to lose you, but I guess you were too stupid to be safe."

Grimmjow clenched his jaw. So he wasn't paranoid after all. This meant that he was in trouble, and, judging from the leers on the faces around him, he was in  _big_  trouble. Didn't mean he couldn't still be a smart-ass, though. "What're you gonna do? Beat me up? How original," he sneered.

Sosuke chuckled. "Ah, but it always works," he said. "I have to say, I've never seen anyone so eager for trouble before."

Grimmjow snorted.

"You know that the boy is  _mine_ , yet you just  _have_  to stick your nose in there," Sosuke went on, ignoring Grimmjow. "I have nothing against you personally, but I do hate having people in my way." He paused as if to let his words sink in, then continued, "But I'm feeling generous today, so how about this. If you're smart, you'll-"

Grimmjow cut the man off with a bark of laughter. "Stay away from him or you'll get hurt?" he scoffed. "Can you get any cheesier? What are you, reading from a script?"

The next thing he knew, a pair of arms clamped down around him from behind in an iron grip, and then he was being half-hauled, half-dragged deeper into the darkness. He struggled and yelled and kicked, but there were more hands on him now - it felt like there were three people restraining him, and he couldn't twist out of their grasp. He heard the sound of a chain link fence being kicked, then he was suddenly shoved forward roughly. The movement was too abrupt, and he couldn't break his fall in time. He hit the ground hard and felt a burst of pain on the elbow that he had landed on. Unwilling to give them the satisfaction of hearing him cry out, he bit his lip.

"You think you're very smart," Sosuke said darkly.

Grimmjow scrambled to his feet, but only got as far as kneeling before he was tackled to the ground again. He landed on his shoulder this time, and heard his jacket rip. Whoever it was that was holding him down, the fellow was a beast. Grimmjow felt the air being squeezed out of his lungs, and he struggled, gasping for breath with every jerk of his body. All that earned him was a shove to the back of his head, and his forehead smashed into the ground. His vision darkened, and then the pain registered in his mind. A groan slipped from his lips before he could stop it.

"Son of a bitch," he growled.

"Now, I'm not into senseless violence," Sosuke said, smiling sweetly. "I prefer to  _get to the point_. Short and sweet, but do some  _real_ damage." He crouched down and breathed into Grimmjow's face. "Don't you agree?"

Grimmjow never got his chance to reply, because a hand was suddenly hooked around his neck. Another hand grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back, easing the choke hold slightly but essentially rendering his upper body completely immobile. He grappled with the arm that was crushing his throat, but he only managed to do so for a few seconds before someone yanked his arm away. He felt his palm being pressed into the ground, then a foot stepped on the back of his hand, pinning it to the ground.

Grimmjow bit his lip in an effort to silence himself, but he knew it was a losing battle. When the foot ground roughly into his knuckles, he finally cried out in pain. It felt as though the person was trying to crush his bones, but then the grinding stopped suddenly. He knew that wasn't the end of it - it was more like he was being held in place for something much, much worse.

He heard a dull metallic thunk, and he looked up to see Sosuke holding a baseball bat. The man was smacking his other palm lightly with the bat, his eyes locked on Grimmjow in a calculating gaze. Then, he gestured with his head, and the person behind Grimmjow yanked his body upwards, stretching his hand taut.

As the brunet slowly approached, Grimmjow suddenly understood what the man was going to do.

"You fucking coward!" Grimmjow spat, struggling against his captors with all his strength even though he knew it was useless. How could he stay motionless when he knew what was going to happen to him? Useless as it may, he wasn't going to simply lie there and admit defeat.

When the bat tapped his elbow lightly, Grimmjow curled his fingers instinctively. The foot on the back of his hand immediately ground down harder. As the bat tapped on his arm again, Grimmjow felt bile rise at the back of his throat. With his arm held in place at this angle, Sosuke wouldn't even need to use much force for what he wanted to do.

"Ready?" Sosuke taunted.

As Grimmjow looked on helplessly, the man raised the bat and swung.

There was a loud crack, then Grimmjow's world went dark for a moment. A split second later, the pain finally hit him, and he screamed. His upper body was suddenly freed, and he collapsed onto the ground, his broken arm landing at an odd angle. He didn't know the extent of the injury, but it  _hurt_  like a bitch. He could only hope that the damage would not be permanent. Broken grunts came out of his mouth unbidden as he strained against the pain, and his eyes watered.

There was a crunch of gravel, then Sosuke crouched down in front of Grimmjow.

"Do you know what I want to do when I get my hands on Ichigo?" he asked, leering down at the injured teen. "Oh, he will want me in the end. They all do." He paused and ran his fingers through Grimmjow's hair. "You  _do_  know that he's a virgin, right? I bet he's tight, and hot, and I bet it'll be painful for him."

Grimmjow shook off the man's hand with a jerk of his head. "You're sick," he said hoarsely.

Sosuke went on smoothly, "I think he'll look beautiful when he screams, with his pretty face all scrunched up as I take him." When Grimmjow growled, Sosuke smiled and added softly, "Over and over again."

Grimmjow stilled as Sosuke's voice seemed to echo in his head, and then he snapped. Whether it was adrenaline or the alcohol, Grimmjow would never know - all he knew was that  _nobody_  was allowed to talk about his roommate like that. Ignoring the searing pain in his broken arm, he pushed himself up from the ground with his good one and lunged at the brunet still crouched in front of him.

Startled, Sosuke fell onto his ass and scrambled backwards, the arrogance on his face replaced by a flash of fear. Then, Grimmjow felt an arm hook around his throat again and he was suddenly pinned against a strong, rock-hard chest. He kicked and spat like a caged tiger until his captor grabbed his broken arm and  _squeezed_. All the fight in Grimmjow was crushed in that one instant; the white-hot pain that shot up his arm was so intense that he could only gasp.

Sosuke picked himself up from the ground, his face now clouded with pure, merciless anger. He walked up to Grimmjow and hissed in his face, "You asked for this." Then, turning to someone behind Grimmjow, the brunet said curtly, "The other one."

Grimmjow's eyes widened at the command, and he began to struggle again. His head snapped to the side from a hard slap, but he barely felt it. He squirmed and twisted his body desperately, trying and failing to untangle himself from the iron grip that was now forcing him to his knees. He heard the sound of the bat being dragged on the ground, and for a sickening moment, he realized that he could do nothing to stop this.

Then there was a yelp, followed by a low grunt, then a dull thud of flesh against gravel. Grimmjow opened his eyes - when had he closed them? - and saw Sosuke stepping away from him. The man's eyes were wide in shock, but Grimmjow couldn't see the cause for that reaction. He heard the sound of approaching feet from behind, and then he was suddenly released from his captor's arms.

"Don't make me use this."

Grimmjow's heart soared as he recognized the familiar voice. He wanted to turn around and hug Tessai, but he was too tired. He could barely keep himself upright as it was.

Sosuke took another step back, then, shooting a final seething glare at Grimmjow, he turned on his heels and stalked off. One of his friends, the one with sunglasses, bent down and picked up the boy that was knocked unconscious by Tessai. Then they, too, left silently. Breathing harshly through his mouth, Grimmow counted a total of five people. Cowards, each and every one of them, but what was it that could convince them to flee so quickly? He turned to Tessai and his mouth fell open in surprise.

Tessai was holding a pistol, now aimed downwards at the ground. The thing was tiny in his large hand, but looked just as deadly.

"Since when did you…" Grimmjow began to say, but a sudden wave of nausea hit him. The adrenaline that had been holding him together was quickly ebbing, and his knees weakened.

Tessai caught him just in time. "I don't suppose now would be a good time to say 'I told you so'?" the man asked wryly.

Grimmjow managed a weak grin, and then everything went dark.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	7. Chapter 7

Ichigo didn't stop waving until Ikkaku's car went out of sight, then he heaved his backpack onto a shoulder and began his slow trek to his dormitory. Shinji and Nnoitra decided to stay back at the apartment until later that evening, and Hanatarou volunteered to stay behind to take care of the not-so-sober folks. Izuru had taken the bus back earlier in the morning, so that left Ichigo coming back alone right after lunch. He would've loved to stay later, but he had a couple of assignments to finish, and his conscience refused to leave him alone.

The weekend had been a blast. Ichigo had never had so much fun since he arrived at the university. Thanks to the suggestion from a slightly drunk Rangiku, they'd ended up playing strip poker, which was somewhat of a novelty to Ichigo. Sure, he had heard of it before, but had never  _participated_  in one. He was apprehensive at first, but the high from alcohol and good company nudged him out of his comfort zone, and he had given in in the end. It was hilarious, as expected. To his own surprise, Ichigo was good at the game, and by the time he lost his shirt, Hanatarou was already down to his boxers. The poor kid tried to hide behind a pillow, but it was quickly snatched away by Shuuhei.

When the game first started, Ichigo thought that he'd be embarrassed by the sight of his friends - most of whom he'd only known for less than two days - being in various stages of undress, but he wasn't. He didn't even flinch when Nnoitra proudly threw his underwear across the room and proceeded to flash everyone at the table. The only red face in the apartment was Hanatarou's; the poor kid looked like he would faint at any moment, especially when Rangiku turned to him to offer him a drink.

It was weird; perhaps he'd simply gotten immune to nudity thanks to the constant training by Grimmjow. But then again, he'd never gotten comfortable seeing Grimmjow naked, though. So maybe it depended on the person. He didn't understand why Grimmjow was any different. Could it be because the blue-haired teenager was in better shape? He definitely looked the best amongst all of them; his shoulders were the broadest, the V-shape of his torso leading down to his hips was the most prominent. And he was - Ichigo blushed at the thought - definitely the most well-endowed in a certain body part than the guys at the apartment.

Ichigo scratched his head, feeling puzzled. Maybe it was simply because Grimmjow always had a perverted leer on his face. Whatever it was, Ichigo hoped that Grimmjow would at least be partially dressed when he got back. He had seen more than enough naked body parts to last the entire year.

When he arrived at his room, he jammed his key into the keyhole without thinking. Then he realized what he was doing and hastily retracted the key, and knocked lightly on the door. He heard a muffled reply. He couldn't really tell what was said, but it did sound suspiciously like "come in". Feeling uncertain, he unlocked the door and pushed it open a fraction.

"Can I come in?" Ichigo asked, keeping his face away from the gap.

"Yeah," came the reply, a little clearer this time.

Ichigo pushed the door all the way open, then he stopped in his tracks in shock.

Sitting on the chair was Grimmjow, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and working furiously to unscrew the cap of a plastic bottle of water. Except, his right hand was in a sling and he was barely able to hold the bottle firmly enough for his left hand to twist the cap. Cursing, he gritted his teeth and tried again. The bottle promptly slipped out of his hand and landed on the floor, then rolled slowly away from the chair. Grimmjow cursed again and slumped back in the chair, his face pulled into the fiercest scowl Ichigo had ever seen.

Dropping his backpack next to his bed, Ichigo walked over to the bottle and picked it up. With a quick twist of his wrist, he popped the cap open and handed it over to his roommate. Grimmjow took the bottle without looking at Ichigo and began to drink in silence. From the speed he was gulping down the liquid, Ichigo wondered when was the last time the guy had anything to drink.

"What happened?" Ichigo asked carefully.

Grimmjow set the bottle down on his desk and wiped his mouth with his left hand. "I fell down the stairs," he said with a faint smirk on his lips.

"Bullshit." Ichigo frowned. "The stairs here is carpeted, and you wouldn't get a gash like that." He pointed to the angry, swollen wound on Grimmjow's forehead. It looked like it was smashed against a bumpy hard surface; even if Grimmjow had bumped into the wall next to the staircase, it wouldn't give him an injury like that. "By the way, why is that not bandaged?"

"Never said it was the stairs here," Grimmjow muttered sullenly.

Ichigo stepped closer and looked at Grimmjow's face. Besides the injury on the forehead, he also had a light purplish bruise on his cheekbone and a split lip. If anything, the boy looked like he got into a fight and lost,  _badly_.

"You got into a fight, didn't you?" Ichigo asked, pursing his lips.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and glared at him. "It's none of your business, okay?"

Ichigo bristled at the way he was brushed off and decided that it  _was_  none of his business. Throwing Grimmjow a dirty look, he turned away and went to his closet to get a clean set of clothes. When you pack nine teenagers into one small apartment, cleanliness isn't exactly a priority. His t-shirt stuck to his skin, and he could feel sweat on his thighs where they were trapped inside his jeans. In other words, he was completely gross. Picking up his shower things, Ichigo walked to the door and yanked it open.

Then, he paused.

"Have you showered?" he asked his roommate with a cocked eyebrow.

"No."

Ichigo noted the petulant scowl on Grimmjow's face and decided to risk another question. "How are you going to shower?"

Grimmjow grunted and looked away. "I'll figure something out," he said gruffly.

"No, really." Ichigo stepped away from the door. "How are you going to shower like this?"

Grimmjow blew out an exasperated breath. "I'll probably...I dunno, wipe with a towel or something."

"What about your hair?" Ichigo prodded.

Grimmjow glare at him. "I said I'll figure something out. Now go mind your own business," he snapped. When Ichigo balled his hands into tight fists in annoyance, Grimmjow curled his lips into a sneer. "Unless you wanna bathe  _me_."

Ichigo stiffened. He wasn't sure what he was expecting out of his string of questions, but he was sure  _that_  wasn't what he had in mind. But, seriously though, how else was Grimmjow going to clean himself? The boy was perfectly fine before the weekend, so his injury could only be two days old at the most. It would be pretty much impossible for him to wash his hair properly. And how would he open the bottles of shampoo and body wash? Heck, he probably couldn't even wrap a towel around himself without assistance.

"Fine," Ichigo found himself saying.

Grimmjow sat up in surprise. "Fine? Fine what?"

Ichigo put down his own toiletries and went over to gather Grimmjow's things. He picked up a toothbrush and a face towel and threw them into his basket. "I'm not lugging two bottles of shampoo and body wash to the restroom, you're going to have to use mine."

When he was greeted with a stretch of silence, Ichigo looked up to see his roommate staring at him as if he had sprouted an extra head. "What?" he asked. As if what he had to do wasn't already awkward enough, Grimmjow had to give him that look? Ungrateful bastard.

Grimmjow seemed to suddenly snap out of a trance, and his face broke out into a wide grin. "Nothin'," he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling from his smile. He allowed Ichigo to pull him up from the chair, then the two of them made their way to the restroom; Grimmjow taking the lead with a towel draped carelessly over his uninjured shoulder and Ichigo trailing behind with a basket of toiletries.

Ichigo was relieved to find the restroom empty when they arrived. Having an audience, even a small one, would be rather awkward. He picked the last stall, then he frowned.

"What?" Grimmjow asked. He peeled the towel off of him and hung it on one of the pegs just outside the shower stall.

"Be right back," Ichigo muttered, then he walked off, leaving Grimmjow standing alone in his shorts, looking baffled.

Ichigo stepped out into the hallway and turned right. He knew what he was looking for, he just hoped that it wasn't locked. Stopping in front of the janitorial closet, he twisted the doorknob and was happy to find it unlocked. Sticking his head into the dimly lit closet, he searched the small space and then grinned when his eyes settled on a small plastic stool next to the metal shelves.

When he got back to the shower stall, Grimmjow was leaning against the tiled wall with his eyes half-closed. Ichigo studied his roommate's face and noted the shadows underneath the normally bright blue eyes. Grimmjow must not have gotten much sleep last night, and perhaps even the night before last, depending on when the injury happened. Ichigo was determined to find out more about the incident, but he'd wait until the guy was in a better mood.

Grimmjow's eyes shot open when Ichigo cleared his throat, and then he eyed the plastic stool in Ichigo's hand. "What's that for?"

Ichigo turned the faucet and washed the stool under a strong torrent of hot water and a little soap, then he placed it against one of the walls in the stall. "For you to sit, genius."

For a moment, Grimmjow looked like he wanted to say something snappy, but then his features softened slightly and he stepped into the wet stall and sat down on the stool, still clad in his shorts.

Ichigo rolled his own sleeves up to his armpits and turned the faucet to a smaller stream and a more tolerable temperature. He crouched down in front of Grimmjow, then he looked deeply into those sky-blue eyes and said, "Bend over."

* * *

Grimmjow swore he had never opened his eyes so wide before. Ever. Usually  _he_ was the one who would utter these words, but he had to admit, they sounded pretty hot coming from Ichigo's mouth too.

"Oi."

His field of vision was suddenly obscured by a waving hand, and he blinked.

"I can't wash your hair if you don't bend over," Ichigo explained.

Grimmjow immediately felt stupid. He spread his legs slightly and bent forward, dropping his chin onto his chest. He felt fingers ruffle his hair, then his head was enveloped in warm water. He instinctively shrank back and tucked his broken arm closer to his body to keep it dry.

"Ah, shit." Ichigo swore under his breath, then he stood up and left the stall, only to return a few seconds later with Grimmjow's towel. He shook it lightly, then he draped it over Grimmjow's shoulders and pulled the ends to the front, wrapping Grimmjow's body the way a hairdresser would before a haircut. Once that was done, he guided Grimmjow's head back in the spray of water.

Grimmjow sighed softly as long fingers massaged a dollop of shampoo into his scalp, and he let himself relax. The towel kept him relatively dry and prevented the water from spraying onto his sling, but soapy water still got into the gash on his forehead, and he let out a sharp hiss before he could stop himself.

"Sorry," Ichigo said. "Not much I can do about that."

Grimmjow grunted dismissively. Ichigo's fingers continued to rake through his hair, tugging at the strands and then pressing them back against Grimmjow's head. It was heaven compared to what he had gone through in the past two days.

He still remembered waking up gasping in Tessai's car on the way to the hospital, his body aching all over, especially his arm. His head was a mess; his forehead was swollen where it had hit the rough graveled surface of the deserted parking lot, and he had bled all over the front of his shirt. He could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth too, where his lip had split thanks to a punch to the face. Tessai drove in stony silence, his lips set in a thin straight line. Grimmjow could tell that the older man was driving way over the speed limit, but he was in too much pain to care.

He had needed a minor surgery to reset his bones, and he had a mild concussion, but other than that he was fine. He spent two nights at the hospital for observation, and if he hadn't thrown a fit, Tessai would've forced him to stay at his apartment for the remainder of the weekend. He knew he was being childish, but he was feeling too angry at himself to listen to logic. How could he have been so careless? If he had been more alert, if he hadn't had alcohol in his system, if he hadn't been nursing a headache at the time, he would've put up a better fight. But as it was, he had gone down like a sack of potatoes, and he couldn't be more pissed and humiliated. The thought of having Tessai fussing over him just added salt to the wound. The older man's eyes practically oozed "I told you so" the entire weekend even though he didn't say anything, and Grimmjow didn't think he could survive another minute with the man.

Tessai had meant well, of course, and Grimmjow knew that. After Grimmjow left his apartment that night, Tessai had waited the estimated time that would normally take for the boy to reach his dorm and then called to check on him. Grimmjow never heard his cell ring because he was too busy getting beaten up at the time, and when he didn't pick up after three calls, Tessai became worried. He had driven past the parking lot and, by sheer chance, noticed the commotion inside. Grimmjow daren't imagine what would've happened if Tessai hadn't gone down to investigate.

When he woke up from surgery, one of the first things Tessai asked him was "What is Ichigo?". Grimmjow was stunned, as he had never mentioned his roommate to Tessai before.

"You kept saying that word when you were in the car," Tessai had said when Grimmjow asked. "I assumed you weren't craving for strawberries."

Grimmjow had brushed it off and told Tessai that he was just sprouting nonsense from the pain. He could tell that the man was not the least bit convinced, but Tessai didn't press further.

After that, Grimmjow couldn't get Ichigo out of his head. He couldn't believe that Sosuke had the nerve to say such filthy things about the boy. It was one thing to pursue the kid blindly out of affection, but to do it for such twisted pleasure? How could anyone wish such a thing on someone as innocent as Ichigo? Sure, Ichigo was the same age as Grimmjow, but anyone could tell that Ichigo had lived a sheltered life before college.

Was it strange that he had felt so angry when he heard Sosuke talk about Ichigo like that? It had seemed normal at the time, it was a natural instinct, almost. Perhaps it had become one without him even realizing it. Wasn't that what he'd been doing for almost a month now - helping his roommate, shielding him from Sosuke? How else was he supposed to react, right?

He wasn't going to tell Ichigo about it for sure. It was already humiliating enough to have to walk around with a stupid sling for two months, he didn't need the kid to know that he had lost a fight against Sosuke, of all people.

An extra hard tug on his hair snapped Grimmjow back to the present, and he looked up questioningly at Ichigo.

"Were you sleeping?" the boy asked irritably. "I've asked you to tilt your head back three times now."

"Oh." For once, Grimmjow didn't have a smart retort on his tongue, so he obediently sat up and let his head fall back. He felt Ichigo's hand cradle the back of his head while the other hand gently rinsed shampoo out from his bangs. It felt weird; everything about the current situation was weird. He wasn't driving Ichigo up the wall like he usually did, Ichigo wasn't nagging him to do this or that. This was, surprisingly, quite…pleasant.

The water was turned off, but Ichigo held Grimmjow in place. Grimmjow felt the towel being carefully unwrapped from his shoulders, then Ichigo dried his hair with it, his movements brisk but not rough. When that was done, Ichigo wrapped the towel around Grimmjow's hair.

Assuming that this meant Ichigo was finished, Grimmjow stood up, but Ichigo grabbed his wrist.

"Where are you going?" Ichigo asked with a frown.

Grimmjow raised his eyebrows. "Uhh…back to the room?"

Ichigo's frown deepened. "Get your ass back on this chair right now," he said sternly.

Confused, Grimmjow settled back on the stool. He watched with mild amusement as Ichigo reached over to the toiletries basket and fished out a face towel. Turning the faucet back on, Ichigo let the towel soak, then he wrung it out and smoothened it flat on his palm.

"What are you doing?" Grimmjow finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Ichigo gave him a look. "What does it look like?" he asked. "Come on, I'm going to start with your back. Turn around."

Grimmjow's lips twitched. Was Ichigo really doing what he thought he was doing?

"Come on! You're starting to stink!" Ichigo poked Grimmjow's good shoulder.

Too surprised to protest, Grimmjow turned around as ordered. He immediately felt the towel on his skin, and he sighed out loud at the comfortable warmth. Ichigo was gentle, but he was thorough; Grimmjow could almost  _feel_  the grime being wiped off his skin.

Ichigo was done with his back quickly, then he asked Grimmjow turn back around.  _Now_  came the harder part. It was one thing to simply sit still while someone wiped his back, but it was a whole other experience watching the person actually do it in front of him. Ichigo looked so serious that it was almost amusing, but Grimmjow contained his laughter. Somehow, this didn't feel like the appropriate time to tease the boy. That was saying a lot, seeing that Grimmjow's concept of "appropriate" was rather questionable.

Grimmjow stayed completely still as Ichigo's hands moved deftly. Wipe, rinse, wring, wipe, rinse, wring. It was the same cycle, over and over again. As Ichigo dragged the towel down his neck and over his collarbone, Grimmjow could practically feel the heat radiating from his roommate's body. Ichigo didn't exactly smell the best right now, but Grimmjow didn't mind. In fact, he instinctively leaned into Ichigo's touch, his nose nearly close enough to brush against Ichigo's. He had nuzzled that head of hair countless times in the past few weeks, and he was so tempted to do it now, even though there were nobody here to act for.

"Don't move, okay?" Ichigo said. "I'm going to clean around the straps, I don't want to bump into your arm."

Grimmjow nodded. Ichigo moved slowly, bringing the towel carefully around the strap and the sling, wiping only the exposed skin. The look of concentration on Ichigo's face was priceless, and for a moment Grimmjow felt like a statue - like he was a blank slab of marble and Ichigo was a sculptor.

Then Ichigo dragged the towel down his side, and Grimmjow felt his pulse speed up a notch. That had felt good,  _really_ good. The touch was just firm enough to not make him feel ticklish, yet still soft enough to feel almost like a caress. A sigh almost made it past his lips, but he bit down on his lip and swallowed it.

Unaware of what was going on, Ichigo dragged the towel over Grimmjow's side again, and then down across his lower abdomen just beneath the sling.

Grimmjow closed his eyes and exhaled slowly through his mouth. This was bad. This shouldn't be happening. Grimmjow felt himself stir as Ichigo did another pass across his stomach, getting dangerously close the waistband of his shorts. For once, he was thankful that he was wearing something. He would die of humiliation if Ichigo found out how his body was reacting to this simple, chaste act. Riling Ichigo up was  _his_  job, not the other way around.

"Do you want me to clean your legs?" Ichigo asked suddenly.

"Wha-?" Grimmjow's head snapped up.

"I said, do you want me to clean your legs?" Ichigo repeated. "Seriously, have you gone deaf too?"

Grimmjow unconsciously pressed his thighs closer together. "N-no. I'm good." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Thanks."

Ichigo shrugged, then he rinsed the towel one last time. "Okay, you're good to go." He yawned and stretched his arms behind his head before standing up.

Grimmjow shifted his shorts subtly, glad that it was a loose-fitting pair. He reached up and patted the towel still wrapped around his head. "Can I not walk around with this thing on my head?"

Ichigo snorted, but helped him unravel the towel anyway. Then he shoved his key into Grimmjow's hand. "You can let yourself in, right?"

"Yeah." Grimmjow threw the damp towel over his good shoulder and curled his fingers around the key. "Say, Ichigo…"

The boy raised an eyebrow.

Grimmjow pursed his lips and thought hard about what he wanted to ask. What was he truly expecting to hear in response, though? He wasn't sure, but the question had been gnawing on his mind ever since Ichigo agreed to help him wash up. "Why are you doing this?"

"Huh?" Ichigo's raised eyebrow went up closer to his hairline.

"Why'd you help me?" Grimmjow asked finally.

Ichigo looked taken aback by the question, and from the flustered look on his face, it looked like he didn't know the answer himself.

As he looked at his roommate's expression, the devious streak in Grimmjow that had been absent for a while returned. "Is it because you've  _fallen in love_  with me?" he teased, and then waited for Ichigo to explode.

And explode he did. With an indignant cry, Ichigo flung the small towel straight into Grimmjow's face. Surprised, Grimmjow didn't duck in time and the towel landed with a smack on his nose.

"You idiot!" Ichigo yelled.

Grimmjow peeled the towel off his face and braced himself for a stream of curses and possible physical violence, but instead, he was greeted with an unreadable expression on Ichigo's face. The boy's eyes were narrowed and gleaming with annoyance, but his mouth was twitching in a strange way. If he wasn't imagining things, it almost looked like Ichigo was trying not to laugh.

"You're such an ass," the boy huffed, his caramel-hued eyes threatening to bore holes into Grimmjow's skull. "Now go away. I still need to shower."

Grimmjow chuckled, feeling much better now that the normal dynamics of their relationship was back. The strange, sexually-charged tension that Ichigo held over him earlier was gone.

* * *

Grimmjow had managed to wiggle his way into a pair of boxers by the time Ichigo came back from his shower. As usual, Ichigo always brought a set of clothes with him to the bathroom, so he was fully dressed.

Ichigo took a look at the angry red mark on Grimmjow's forehead and sighed. "That needs to be bandaged," he pointed out.

Grimmjow wrinkled his nose. "I took it off this afternoon. It itches."

"Well yeah, if you don't have the bandage on you're going to end up scratching it," Ichigo said. He went to his desk and pulled out one of the deeper drawers. "Sit down."

The surprisingly commanding tone in his roommate's voice convinced Grimmjow to listen, and he shuffled over to his chair and plopped down into it. He watched Ichigo warily as the boy approached him with a small plastic case with large red foreign-looking characters on the side.

"What's that?" he asked.

"First aid kit," Ichigo said absently. He opened the kit and picked out a couple of antiseptic wipes. "I brought it with me from home." Then, he stepped closer to Grimmjow and brushed his bangs away from his forehead. With a frown, Ichigo started to clean the wound with the wipes.

It stung, but Grimmjow didn't flinch. He just watched his roommate's actions with curiosity and awe. Ichigo seemed to really know this stuff; the way he worked held an air of confidence and professionalism. Ichigo turned back to the kit and took out a roll of gauze. A few pats later, he stepped back and announced that he was done.

Grimmjow reached up and prodded the freshly bandaged gash on his forehead. "Uh, thanks," he mumbled.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and packed his first aid kit, but when Grimmjow stood up to go to the bunk bed, he stopped. "Take my bed."

Grimmjow paused, his hand hanging in the middle of the air, hovering just inches away from the ladder.

"It's ridiculous to let an invalid sleep upstairs," Ichigo said, grinning. When Grimmjow's eyes narrowed, his smile widened.

Grimmjow ran his options inside his head. He was secretly relieved to hear the offer, because to be honest, he wasn't looking forward to navigating up and down from the top bunk with a busted arm. But he didn't want to seem too eager to accept the offer either.

Ichigo rolled his eyes like he could hear Grimmjow's thoughts. "Go on, I won't think any less of you."

Grimmjow bared his teeth in irritation, but he stepped away from the ladder anyway. Pushing the blanket out of the way, he sat down on Ichigo's bed and began to lie down.

"Wait!"

"What?" Grimmjow sat back up, confused.

"Your hair is still wet," Ichigo said.

Grimmjow didn't get it. "So?"

"You'll get a headache if you sleep with wet hair," Ichigo said stubbornly.

Before Grimmjow could retort, Ichigo whipped out a hair dryer and aimed it at Grimmjow. The sudden blast of hot air blew into Grimmjow's face, and he roared a string of curses as he shook his head. Ichigo laughed gleefully like he had just won a battle, then he grabbed a fistful of Grimmjow's hair and started to dry it. Grimmjow protested at first, but when he felt Ichigo's fingers massaging his scalp, he remembered how good it had felt when the boy washed his hair earlier and decided to stop moving.

Once that was done, Grimmjow immediately lay down. The sling was an annoyance to deal with, but he tried his best to position it properly on his body and hoped that he wouldn't end up rolling over it in the middle of the night.

"Here." Ichigo leaned over him and tucked a pillow under his arm. "Keep your elbow slightly elevated, it'll help with the swelling and pain."

Grimmjow couldn't hold back his curiosity this time. "Were you a nurse?" he blurted. Well, that didn't quite come out the way he wanted, but he supposed he got the message across.

Ichigo chuckled. "My dad owns a family clinic. My sisters and I have been doing stuff like that since we were little."

"Ah." That made a lot of sense. That also explained why Ichigo helped him wash up, then. It was only natural; Grimmjow was a patient - an invalid, as Ichigo had so helpfully pointed out - Ichigo was practically programmed to take care of people.

"Well, good night," Ichigo stepped onto the ladder. Then he was gone. Grimmjow heard and felt the bed frame rattle, and then there was a bump from the upper bunk, indicating that Ichigo was now lying down in  _his_  bed.

It felt strange switching places like this. The bed smelled like Ichigo, even the pillow under his head. Hell, this entire day had felt strange ever since Ichigo came back. Grimmjow wasn't used to having somebody fuss over him, he hated it, in fact. But the way Ichigo did it was just…different. He didn't feel babied, or pitied. Ichigo didn't make him feel inferior.

The bed creaked softly as Ichigo turned above, and Grimmjow closed his eyes. The pain and discomfort from the past two days quickly caught up with him, and soon, the two roommates drifted off to sleep, their soft, even breathing the only sound in the room.

* * *

**To be continued...**


	8. Chapter 8

Ichigo woke up with a start. He blinked, temporarily confused as he tried to get a bearing of his surroundings. The window seemed a little odd, the angle was kind of off somehow, but he could tell that he was in his room.

He yawned, then a stab of horror suddenly lanced through his chest. His assignments! Distracted by Grimmjow's condition, he had totally forgotten about them, and two of them were due the next day. Or rather, today.

Ichigo panicked. The room was still dark, he might actually have time to get at least one of them done. He didn't have his watch with him, though, so he had no way of telling the time.

Well, regardless of time, he had to get to his bag. With a quick roll of his body, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and promptly crashed into a row of wooden railing.

Ichigo's eyes widened. Right...he had switched bunks with Grimmjow last night. Thank goodness for the railing, then; he didn't think he would come out of that unscathed, and it would be a tragedy to have an invalid take care of another invalid.

He groped for the ladder and made his way down carefully. He winced when the bed frame creaked, but Grimmjow didn't stir.

With a barely audible thud, he dropped down to the floor, then tiptoed over to his desk. He felt ridiculous sneaking around like a thief, but he knew his rommmate needed whatever rest he could get.

Relieved to find that he had more than four hours till his class started, Ichigo grabbed his laptop and his phone, then tiptoed back to the bunk bed. Mid-stride, he stopped and stared at the sleeping form in the lower bunk.

Grimmjow was on his back, his injured hand nestled on top of the pillow that Ichigo had placed there last night. His head was angled slightly to the left, his lips parted just wide enough for soft, steady breaths to escape. Gone were his trademark scowl and his cocky smirk, and for the first time, Ichigo saw his roommate as the teenager that he was. He looked, for a lack of a better term, innocent for a change. Younger. Softer.

Ichigo stared for a little longer, then, with a faint smile on his lips, finally turned away and climbed up to the upper bunk.

As he struggled to type on his laptop as quietly as he could, Ichigo couldn't help but think back about last night.

It had been difficult for him to keep his hand steady, simply because he was too nervous. Even worse, he had blushed like a fucking virgin throughout the whole thing. True, he had a towel in between, but he could easily feel the firmness and contours of Grimmjow's body, not to mention the boy's body heat that threatened to engulf and crush him. He had covered himself well by pretending to be gruff and impatient, but he was still worried that Grimmjow would notice his reaction and tease him about it. But luckily for him, Grimmjow hadn't.

Now that he thought about it, Grimmjow seemed to be in a really strange mood last night. Not only had he been distracted the entire time, he had seemed uncomfortable. Ichigo had never seen his roommate behave that way, but at least it had kept Grimmjow quiet. Quiet and  _obedient_ , which was rather unnerving even though it made Ichigo's job easier.

He had seen the guy naked more times than he cared to count, but it was something else being so close to him,  _touching_  him. During their stupid pact to carry out their pretend relationship, Grimmjow had touched him plenty — more like exaggerated groping — but this felt different. Strange, even.

Perhaps it was simply because this was the first time they weren't bickering and driving each other up the wall. Perhaps it was because it was the first time he saw just a hint of helplessness in his prideful roommate.

And then, of course, Grimmjow had to spoil it all by being the smart ass that he was in the end, accusing Ichigo of  _falling_   _in love_  with him. What an idiot.

* * *

Just like the past two days, Grimmjow was greeted with hot, throbbing pain in his arm when he woke up, but he felt a lot better today. Ichigo really did know what he was doing; the pillow beneath his elbow had helped a lot.

Cradling his injured arm, he sat up gingerly. He was alone, as expected, and he was  _hungry_. One glance at the clock told him that it was close to noon, and he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in amazement. No wonder he felt better; he hadn't had so much sleep since Aizen broke his arm. He refused to call it a fight, because it damn sure wasn't one. Aizen was a fucking coward, and he was going to make the fucker pay one day.

His stood up and padded over to the closet to grab something to wear, but he didn't know what he could wear without jarring his arm too much. After a few minutes of deliberation, he ended up picking a loose-fitting basketball jersey. It took a bit of effort, but he was able to maneuver the jersey around his sling, then he threw on a pair of baggy sweat pants. He didn't need to look in the mirror to know that he looked ridiculous, but he didn't care. It wasn't like he was participating in Mr. Universe or anything.

His stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he needed to find something to eat. He usually went somewhere downtown for lunch, but the idea of walking all the way there with a sling brought a grimace to his face. But what choice did he have?

With a scowl, he went to his desk to grab his wallet and phone, but then a small piece of paper on the desk caught his attention.

" _Call me when you want to eat_ ," he read out loud. The note wasn't signed, but he recognized his roommate's neat handwriting.

He was torn. Should he call? He knew that Ichigo always ate on campus, and that shit  _sucked_. But on the other hand, that meant he wouldn't have to walk far for food. His stomach growled again at the thought of  _food_ , and that sealed his decision.

With a dejected sigh, he picked up his phone and dialed .

"Yo," he said simply when Ichigo picked up the phone. "I'm hungry."

There was a sigh on the other end, then Ichigo said, "I'll meet you at the mailboxes. See you in five minutes."

Grimmjow grunted in acknowledgement and hung up.

When he finally arrived at the dorm mailboxes, Ichigo was already there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't alone. That ditzy blonde and the boy with the scarred face stood next to Ichigo. They were arguing about something, and Ichigo looked bored as he listened to the two friends bickering.

"Hey," Grimmjow said as he sauntered up to the three boys.

Shinji turned around and gaped at him. Grimmjow braced himself for questions about his injury, but instead, the blonde shrieked, "Oh my god! What the hell are you wearing?"

That brought an amused smirk to Ichigo's face, and Grimmjow scowled. "Shut up," he growled darkly, beginning to regret his decision to come down to have lunch with Ichigo. He had assumed that Ichigo would be alone.

Ichigo seemed to sense that Grimmjow was genuinely annoyed. "Give him a break, Shinji," he said hastily before his friend could do any more damage.

The blonde stuck his tongue out at Grimmjow and turned towards the cafeteria, dragging Shuuhei with him. Grimmjow glared at the back of the boy's head until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Just ignore him," Ichigo said with a smile. "He can be an idiot sometimes. He's just playing with you."

Grimmjow grunted. He was annoyed that he had let the blond kid rile him up so easily, and even more annoyed that some people were now staring at him thanks to Shinji's outburst.

"Come on." Ichigo lifted his hand off of Grimmjow's shoulder and gestured with his head.

Still glowering, Grimmjow followed.

After they scanned their keycards at the entrance, Ichigo and Grimmjow caught up to the others. The lunch crowd had just started to filter in, and the line to the food was beginning to grow. Grimmjow mimicked what Ichigo was doing and grabbed a tray before joining the line. When it was finally his turn at the self-serve station, Grimmjow balked. He was right — the food was a sad sight to behold. For vegetables, he had the option of steamed asparagus that looked like it had been drowned then wrung dry, and steamed broccoli that looked like it wasn't fully cooked. The mashed potato looked like it had come out from one of those frozen food packets, and the baked chicken breast looked dry and flavorless.

"What's wrong?" Ichigo asked when Grimmjow didn't fill his plate.

"There's nothing to eat," Grimmjow grumbled.

Ichigo stared at him in disbelief. "Don't be such an ass," Ichigo said, exasperation clear in his voice.

Grimmjow pursed his lips and debated whether he wanted to retort or not. Before he could, though, Ichigo snatched his tray from his grasp and proceeded to pile some chicken on Grimmjow's plate, followed by some asparagus and some stale-looking spaghetti before getting the same for himself. Then he turned around and glared at Grimmjow, balancing his own tray on one hand and holding out Grimmjow's in the other.

For a moment, Grimmjow was too stunned to react, then he scowled and took his tray from his roommate. "Well y _ou_ 're in a bad mood," he muttered.

Ichigo's features softened slightly. "I'm not in a bad mood, I just... _god_ , sometimes you can be such an asshole."

This had got to be the first time someone called Grimmjow an asshole so politely. Despite his irritation, Grimmjow couldn't help but snort. He followed Ichigo back to the table, where Shinji and Shuuhei were waiting.

Grimmjow stared down at his plate and felt his stomach turn and growl at the same time. He wanted to sigh, but bit it back when he remembered the look on Ichigo's face from earlier. If he were to complain again, Ichigo would no doubt say that he was throwing a childish tantrum, and he was too proud to risk being humiliated in front of Ichigo's friends.

In fact, Shinji was already looking at him with a smirk as it was.

"What, you're too good for the food  _we poor people_  eat every day?" the blonde teased.

Grimmjow felt his hackles rise, but Ichigo intervened before things went further downhill. "Be nice, Shinji," Ichigo warned.

Shinji pouted. "But I'm already nice!"

"Then be nic _er_ ," Ichigo said, looking to Shuuhei for a bit of support. The dark-haired teenager shrugged apologetically.

Shinji let out a sigh, as if Ichigo was asking him for a pint of blood. "So what happened to you anyway?" he asked finally, changing the topic.

Grimmjow stabbed a piece of baked chicken and wondered if he should just bring up the entire slab and take a bite off of it. He was never a stickler for table manners but even he thought this was kind of gross. He shot Shinji a dirty look and replied, "None of your business."

Shinji huffed in annoyance and muttered, "See, this is what I get for being  _nice_."

Grimmjow felt Ichigo's gaze on him. He knew he was being difficult, but he couldn't help it. He's forced to eat terrible food, his elbow was starting to ache again, and now he's being subjected to Barbie's snarky comments. He felt his roommate shift in his seat. He was certain that the boy was going admonish him again for being an asshole, but to his surprise, Ichigo simply took his plate away wordlessly.

Grimmjow turned, unsure what Ichigo was up to. Sure, he didn't like the food, but he was hungry and he sure wasn't going to let Ichigo throw his lunch away. As Grimmjow watched, Ichigo pushed his own plate aside to make space for Grimmjow's, then he began to cut the chicken in bite-sized pieces.

Clearly, Grimmjow wasn't the only one baffled, because Shuuhei immediately piped up, "Are you  _cutting_  his food for him?" The teenager leaned forward in his seat, eyes wide. Next to him, Shinji looked just as confused.

"Mm hmm." Ichigo didn't look up until everything on Grimmjow's plate was perfectly sliced. When he finally lifted his head and found himself staring into three pairs of raised eyebrows, he stared back defiantly. "What's the big deal? I've broken my arm before too, and this is what my sister did for me!"

Grimmjow looked dumbly at his plate as it was shoved back in front of him. He couldn't say that he saw that coming. Normally, this type of "coddling" would piss him off, but the satisfaction of seeing Shuuhei and Shinji speechless was well worth it.

As he had expected, the food was bland at best. The pasta was soggy and overcooked, but at least he didn't have to worry about a fool of himself while eating with one hand. Once he'd had a taste, hunger overtook his pickiness, and he wiped his plate clean in minutes.

"I'm heading back to rest," he said, even though he didn't really understand why he had to explain himself. It just felt like he should, after what Ichigo had done for him. This new, assertive Ichigo was something he was still getting used to. He couldn't say that he disliked it, but it threw him off and made him confused.

As Ichigo grunted around a mouthful of food, Grimmjow turned his back to them and left the table with his tray.

* * *

Ichigo wasn't aware of the two pairs of laser beams aimed at his face until Shinji suddenly cleared his throat. He looked up from his lunch and cocked an eyebrow questioningly.

"So," Shinji said, crossing his arms over his chest dramatically.

"So?" Ichigo echoed, suddenly wary. He recognized Shinji's expression; the blonde had transitioned into full-on gossip mode.

"What's going on with the two of you?" Shinji asked, his lips curling into a sly grin.

Ichigo swallowed his mouthful of chicken and frowned. "Nothing," he said.

"Are you sure?" Shinji leaned forward, his eyes narrowed into crescent moon slits as his smile widened. "Because I haven't seen you so sweet to him before. Did your pretend-dating become real when we weren't looking?"

Ichigo promptly coughed up a chunk of half-chewed chicken. "Shinji!" he sputtered once he recovered, his face beet red from the violent coughing fit.

By now, Shuuhei was chuckling too.

"No!" Ichigo hissed. "Nothing happened! There's absolutely  _nothing_  between us! God, Shinji!"

"Are you sure?" the blonde asked again, his grin so wide now that even his upper teeth were revealed. "This is the first time I've seen the idiot  _not_  molest you! Something must have happened!"

Ichigo smacked his forehead with an exaggerated sigh. "Well, yes, something did happen. He broke a limb! I don't think teasing me is high on his priority list right now."

Shuuhei nodded. "True," he said thoughtfully.

Shinji still looked unconvinced. He narrowed his eyes and peered intently at Ichigo as though he would be able to read Ichigo's mind if he stared hard enough.

"Look," Ichigo said firmly. "There's  _nothing_  between us. Absolutely nothing." Naturally, he wasn't going to bring up how he had helped Grimmjow in the bathroom last night — he would never hear the end of it if he did. "I would never like an asshole like him, okay? Just drop it, Shinji."

The blonde gave his friend another long, meaningful look, then he rolled his eyes and grumbled, "What a letdown. And here I thought we have something interesting going on for a change."

Ichigo threw a crumpled ball of used napkin at Shinji. "Not at my expense, you idiot!"

* * *

To Ichigo's surprise, the first thing Grimmjow asked for the next morning was for Ichigo to take him to one of the classes he shared with Aizen Sosuke.

"But you shouldn't move about so much," Ichigo protested.

But Grimmjow stubbornly refused to back down and wouldn't stop pestering Ichigo until he relented. Ichigo didn't get what the urgency was. Sosuke hadn't talked to him recently. The worst thing the man had done was to stare at him from across the lecture hall.

This would be the first time Grimmjow actually attended Ichigo's class. He wasn't registered for it, but nobody questioned his presence when he strolled into the auditorium with Ichigo.

"Don't make any smart ass remarks during class, okay?" Ichigo warned as he slid into the chair next to his roommate.

He expected Grimmjow to make some kind of snappy comeback, but Grimmjow's didn't. He simply leaned back against the back of the seat and scanned the room like he was searching for something. After a few minutes, he turned to Ichigo.

"Where does Aizen usually sit?" he growled.

The deep, seething hatred in Grimmjow's voice was not lost on Ichigo. "Usually a few rows above me, all the way over to the right next to the wall," Ichigo said, unconsciously lowering his voice. "But he hasn't arrived yet."

Grimmjow nodded, then he turned back and stared directly at the entrance.

Ichigo glanced at his roommate as the teen absently fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. Last night, he had taught Grimmjow how to put on a button-up shirt on his own without jarring his injured arm. He had to say, Grimmjow looked quite sharp in the slate grey shirt he was wearing now.

And then all of a sudden, Grimmjow tensed. Ichigo looked up and immediately saw the reason.

Sosuke was standing at the entrance, eyes narrowed and staring pointedly in their direction. Even with the distance, Ichigo sensed the hostility between Grimmjow and Sosuke. He had known that there was no love lost between the two, but it had never been so obvious before.

Usually, this would be the moment when Grimmjow snaked his arm around Ichigo's waist or shoulder, or gave him a peck on the lips, but Grimmjow didn't move.

Ichigo risked a sidelong glance at Grimmjow and was shocked to see the tightness in the boy's jaw. Grimmjow's eyes were fierce and cold, and even though it wasn't directed at him, Ichigo felt a chill as he saw the intensity in Grimmjow's gaze. But even scarier was the taunting smirk on the boy's face.

"Oi…" Ichigo whispered, nudging his roommate lightly. "What's going on?"

Sosuke was now walking towards them. He had to, in order to get to his usual spot. It didn't look like Grimmjow's presence did anything to deter him from claiming his territory. Ichigo looked at the man warily as he walked past. Sosuke's eyes were equally hard, and for once, they weren't focused on Ichigo.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo said softly, feeling a little alarmed by the situation. "What's going on?"

For the longest time, Grimmjow didn't respond. When he finally did, all he said was, "Nothing."

If not for the fact that Grimmjow had a broken arm, Ichigo would've socked him in the jaw. There was definitely something going on, something  _bigger_ , but Ichigo couldn't imagine what it could be. He opened his mouth to snap at Grimmjow, but before he could, Grimmjow draped his good arm across Ichigo's shoulders.

"Seriously, it's nothing," Grimmjow said.

Ichigo pursed his lips. The was no hiding the strain on Grimmjow's face even though he was smiling. As if to reassure Ichigo that nothing was wrong, Grimmjow squeezed Ichigo's shoulders and gave him a quick peck on the top of his head.

Ichigo's heart skipped a beat at the brief contact even though he was disturbed by what just happened. It was maddening how easily he was affected. He  _knew_  this was all nothing but a facade, yet every time Grimmjow did something stupid like that, he would blush. It was so unfair. It wasn't like he even liked the guy.

Then the professor walked in the lecture hall, and Ichigo took out his notebook and tried his best to ignore the warmth of the arm still around him.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	9. Chapter 9

As the professor droned on about the technicalities behind reference counting, Grimmjow sat next to Ichigo and simmered in anger. The  _look_  on that bastard's face…god, he just wished he could jump up and smash Aizen's teeth in. The fact that the man seemed shocked to see him here simply added insult to injury. So Aizen thought breaking his arm was enough to deter him, huh? Well, he would show Aizen that Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was not a coward.

To be honest, he wasn't sure what he was really expecting to achieve by facing Aizen like this. He wasn't about to confront Aizen in public and make a fool of himself. It was more like an impulse more than anything, to prove that he wasn't intimidated.

So he wasn't prepared for the white hot fury that seized his head the moment he set eyes on Aizen. Grimmjow was no stranger to anger, but this was a whole new level of fury that he had never felt before. If it weren't for the fact that they were surrounded by people, he would've pounced on the bastard, broken arm be damned. Instead, he had to hold it in. His jaw ached from the force he was using to clench his mouth shut, but that was the only way he could stop himself from screaming.

He knew Ichigo had sensed that something was not right, and the kid was pissed when he wouldn't tell him what's going on. Well, what could he say? He didn't want Ichigo to know that he was jumped by Aizen. That would be too humiliating. Not to mention, Ichigo would definitely disagree with how he was handling it, probably even force him to go to the police to report the assault.

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he wasn't even aware that class had ended until people started to stand up and make their way to the aisle in the center.

"Let's go," Ichigo said curtly as he stuffed his books into his bag.

Grimmjow could tell from his roommate's tone that the boy was still upset, but he chose to ignore it for now. The kid would just have to get over it. Grimmjow was just about to move, to untangle his arm from Ichigo's shoulders when he suddenly spied Aizen saunter down the steps towards them.

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, his hackles rising. Aizen had a smug smile on his face as he approached, then he stopped next to Ichigo.

"How have you been, Ichigo?"

The sickly sweet tone in Aizen's voice made Grimmjow's stomach turn. He felt his roommate's body tense.

"I'm fine, thank you," Ichigo replied simply.

Aizen chuckled. "Good," the man said with a smile. His eyes flicked to Grimmjow briefly, then he turned back to Ichigo. "Well, take care. I'll see you around, Ichigo." WIth that, Aizen walked away. Tousen, his ever-loyal lapdog, followed closely behind, expressionless as always.

For the longest time, Grimmjow stared after them, the indignity of being pinned down and helpless from the other night fanning the seething fire in his chest. And how dare Aizen talk to Ichigo like this after what he had said, how dare he come close to Ichigo as if nothing had ever happened, as if he didn't have those dirty thoughts in his head—

"Oww!"

Grimmjow felt his fingers being forcibly pried off by Ichigo. The boy rubbed his shoulder and glared at him. "That hurt!"

"What?" Grimmjow retracted his arm and flexed his fingers. They were red where Ichigo had pinched them.

"Do you have any idea how hard you were squeezing? What the hell's wrong with you?" Ichigo snapped. He slung his bag over his other shoulder and stood up. "Asshole."

Grimmjow blinked. Ichigo turned away from him and walked down the aisle, leaving him behind. Grimmjow stared at his fingers again. Was he really holding Ichigo that hard? He hadn't noticed it. He only remembered that his arm was around the kid's shoulders just like always. And then when that bastard came over he just…

Whatever. Maybe the Ichigo was just being pissy because he wouldn't tell him what's going on. Now was not the time to analyze stupid things like this. All he wanted was payback. He's not going to let Aizen get away with this. He just had to wait for the right time.

Holding his sling close to his body, Grimmjow jogged after his roommate.

* * *

Shinji thought his chest was going to burst from all the pent-up frustration he'd been holding for the past few weeks. He stared, his mouth pursed and brows drawn, at the two boys sitting across the table. And as always, they were completely oblivious to his penetrating gaze. He had kept his mouth shut for so long, and this was seriously beginning to drive him nuts.

Ever since that first time, Ichigo's blue-haired roommate had been joining them for almost every meal at the dorm cafeteria. He had even stopped complaining about the food. And who would, with the way Ichigo was waiting on him hand and foot, cutting his food into bite-sized pieces and getting him drinks and whatnot. How was it fair that he was being treated like a king despite being such a pain in the ass?

Shinji had never met anyone so brash before. Sure, Shinji was no angel himself, nor were most of his friends. Ikkaku was probably the closest to Grimmjow in terms of personality, but even he seemed tame in comparison. Grimmjow was so fucking crass, always mocking Shinji about his looks and clothing, even calling him Barbie, of all things! It was only made worse by the fact that Ichigo seemed  _amused_  by Grimmjow's antics.

In fact, it seemed like Grimmjow could do no wrong in Ichigo's eyes. Like that one time a couple of weeks ago, when they had shown up at the cafeteria one after another; Ichigo sporting a fierce scowl on his face while Grimmjow looked winded, as if he had been chasing after Ichigo. The blue-haired teen caught up to Ichigo at the entrance, right when Ichigo was scanning his card key.

Shinji couldn't hear their conversation, obviously, but he saw Ichigo snap at Grimmjow. Grimmjow had made an exaggerated kicked puppy face and said something, and then before Shinji knew it, Ichigo was giving his roommate a painful-looking punch on his good arm. By the time the two of them joined Shinji at their usual table, Ichigo's bad mood seemed to have lifted.

Shinji had no idea what Grimmjow had done to make Ichigo mad, and hadn't the faintest clue what Grimmjow did to get back into Ichigo's good graces so quickly, but that seemed to have become a pattern over the past weeks. However annoyed Ichigo seemed to be at Grimmjow, it never lasted long.

And worst of all was this stupid  _pretend relationship_  that the two had going on. It had been funny in the beginning, seeing Ichigo all flustered and annoyed when Grimmjow showered him with over-the-top PDA in front of his friends. But now, Ichigo seemed to have gotten so used to this interaction that Shinji could no longer tell what was real and what wasn't. Hell, did Ichigo even know it himself?

Something was brewing between the two of them, Shinji just knew it, except Ichigo always denied it whenever he asked. It was maddening. Nobody coddled a "just a friend" the way Ichigo treated Grimmjow. How could Ichigo not see it? Was Grimmjow just as dense, or was he having fun stringing Ichigo along? He hoped it wasn't the latter, because he would  _so_  going to kill the guy if he was.

Now, as he continued to watch the two idiots, he couldn't help turning to Shuuhei in exasperation.

"Look at them!" he whispered into Shuuhei's ear.

The dark-haired teen grinned. "You're so nosy," he whispered back. "What, you gonna play matchmaker now or what?"

"No." Shinji pouted and shot a dirty look in Grimmjow's direction. "He's not good enough for Ichi."

* * *

"It's healing beautifully," the doctor said with a satisfied smile. "Take it easy for the next two to three months and you should be back to a hundred percent."

Grimmjow flexed his arm tentatively and nodded. It felt amazing being able to move around freely again after having the sling on for almost two months. The incision from the surgery was clearly visible, but he liked to think that it added to his manliness.

"You've been surprisingly patient," Tessai commented casually as the two of them walked out of the hospital. "I was expecting you to insist on getting the sling off much earlier."

Grimmjow chuckled inwardly. He wasn't going to tell Tessai what kind of royal treatment he had been getting from his roommate. In fact, he almost felt sorry that it was ending. He was so tempted to pretend that he was still recovering, but then Ichigo would start to wonder why it's taking so long for him to heal.

"I guess I'm more mature now," Grimmjow said with a smirk.

"Hah!" Tessai slid into the driver's seat and let out a bark of laughter.

Grimmjow gave his mentor a playful punch and was pleased when his arm didn't hurt on impact.

Tessai gave him a look and warned, "The doc said to take it easy."

"Alright, alright."

Tessai smiled and ruffled Grimmjow's hair fondly, laughing when the boy protested by shaking his head vigorously like a wet dog. "So, how shall we celebrate?" Tessai asked as he threw the car in reverse. "Dinner tonight?"

Grimmjow smoothed his hair back with his palm and smiled apologetically. "Actually, uhh, I have plans tonight."

"Oh?" Tessai arched an eyebrow.

"It's that idiot Ichigo. He insisted on taking me out to, ah, celebrate," Grimmjow said awkwardly. He had hoped that he wouldn't have to tell Tessai about it, but he didn't want to lie.

Tessai's eyebrow shot up higher. "Ichigo? That sounds familiar…"

Too late, Grimmjow suddenly remembered how Tessai had asked him about Ichigo after the surgery the other night. He rubbed his face roughly to hide the grimace on his face. This was fucking embarrassing.

To his surprise, the older man didn't prod any further and simply drove in silence. Grimmjow risked a sidelong glance at his mentor. Tessai had an amused smile on his face, which was kind of annoying, but Grimmjow decided that he preferred this over teasing, so he kept his mouth shut.

A few days ago, Ichigo had asked him when he was going to get his sling removed, and Grimmjow had replied honestly. Ichigo had immediately begun to plan a small celebration, much to Grimmjow's chagrin. Honestly, this injury was nothing but a painful reminder of how weak and careless he had been, but somehow, even though he really didn't want to go out, he couldn't find it in himself to say no. All this time hanging out with Ichigo was making him soft, he decided.

When Tessai pulled up in front of the dormitory, Grimmjow gave his mentor a fist bump and stepped out of the car. He rolled his shoulders, relishing the long-awaited freedom of his limbs. He still didn't know what he was going to do exactly, how he was going to execute his revenge on Aizen, but having his mobility back was obviously the most important step.  _Finally_ , after months of sitting on the sidelines simmering in his hatred for the bastard, he was free.

* * *

Grimmjow crossed his legs at the ankles as he leaned back against the wall right outside the entrance of their dormitory. So much for leaving at six o'clock in the evening. It was now approaching twenty minutes past six, and Ichigo's blond friend still hadn't arrived.

Grimmjow couldn't help snickering as Ichigo paced past him again. The kid had been doing that — pacing to and fro — since six; Grimmjow was surprised that he hadn't put a groove in the cement already. Ichigo's brows were knitted in a dark scowl as he muttered under his breath, no doubt cursing Shinji and his entire ancestral tree.

"Relax," Grimmjow said around a cigarette between his teeth. Of course he wasn't supposed to smoke there, but the meek-looking receptionist had taken one look at his hulking figure and left him alone.

Ichigo sighed. "I hate it when he does this," he complained. "We're late!"

Grimmjow shook his head in amusement. "This isn't a war, Ichi. Nobody's getting hurt if we're a few minutes late."

"Ichi?" Ichigo looked mortified. "Not you too!"

Grimmjow chuckled and blew a puff of smoke in his roommate's direction, who immediately waved his hand violently in front of his face. Then, Grimmjow's eyes picked up four figures approaching from a distance. He recognized Barbie, and the rest must be Barbie's roommate and friends. He threw his cigarette stub on the ground and crushed it under his foot, ignoring Ichigo's dagger-like gaze. By then, Ichigo had also noticed his friends, and soon his killer glare was redirected at Shinji.

"Had trouble picking out your outfit, Barbie doll?" Grimmjow asked, enjoying the instant reaction that he always got from the blonde whenever he called him that.

The tallest guy in the bunch screeched in laughter. "Barbie doll? That's precious!" he choked out between laughs. As Shinji gave him a savage poke in the ribs, the guy wiped his eyes and stuck out his hand. "You must be the boyfriend. I'm Nnoitra, pleased to meet ya."

Grimmjow grinned and shook Nnoitra's hand as Ichigo sputtered "no" repeatedly next to him. That's right; he hadn't pulled this stunt — at least not to anyone new — for a while now. The other new faces looked at him in wonder as he slipped an arm around Ichigo's waist and yanked him closer. "Yep, I'm the boyfriend," he said.

"Goddamnit Shinji! Why'd you tell him that?" Ichigo squirmed and pried Grimmjow's fingers away from him.

Shinji rolled his eyes. "Well, you guys are  _a couple_ , aren't you?" he said, punctuating the term with air quotes with his hands.

Grimmjow could see that Ichigo wanted nothing more than to kick his blond friend, and that only made his grin widen.

The shortest kid — the one with chin-length black hair and large, sad-looking blue eyes — piped up soothingly, "That's not very nice, Shinji-kun. Let's go, Shuuhei-kun and the others are waiting for us."

So they went. Half way through Ichigo hung back to tackle Shinji, and Grimmjow found himself walking next to Nnoitra. The kid was ridiculously tall with freakishly long limbs and torso; Grimmjow couldn't help but think of a stick insect, or better yet, a praying mantis, as he observed the boy discretely.

"So how'd you land that piece of ass?" Nnoitra asked in a conspiratorial tone.

Grimmjow snorted. It was funny, because nobody had ever asked him that before. Aizen obviously thought it was real, and Shuuhei and Shinji already knew it was fake from the beginning. Other people just…well, there simply wasn't anyone else who would dare to ask. Grimmjow pondered for a moment, wondering if he should just tell Nnoitra the truth or if he should leave Nnoitra to his assumptions. After a few seconds, he decided that he liked the latter. After all, what fun would there be if  _everybody_  was in on the joke?

"What can I say, I'm just that good," he replied with a shrug.

Nnoitra howled and punched him in the arm despite the fact that they'd only known each other for about ten minutes.

Before long, they arrived at their destination: Buffalo Wild Wings, also known as the most popular hangout place for college students on Tuesday nights, when they served wings for fifty cent each. Shuuhei — or Scarface, as Grimmjow secretly called him in his head — was already there along with a busty female.

Another round of introductions later, their orders arrived, and the evening progressed smoothly. Ichigo seemed to have calmed down after he smacked Shinji on the head on the way here. That is, until Rangiku opened her big mouth.

"So, Ichi-chan," she said, batting her eyelashes with what could only be feigned innocence. "When did you and Grimmjow start dating?"

Ichigo immediately started coughing violently. Grimmjow simply grinned and looked on as Hanatarou patted Ichigo's back gently. As soon as he recovered, Ichigo said firmly, "He is  _not_  my boyfriend, okay? The whole thing is just a stupid idea that  _he_  cooked up. We are  _not_  together!"

Laughter rang around the table; some teasingly, like Shuuhei and Shinji who knew what was going on; some politely, like that other blonde kid, Izuru. Ichigo's expression was priceless. His face was pink, especially his cheeks and nose, his eyes wide and fierce with indignation.

"I'm serious!" Ichigo said, looking like he was on the verge of losing his temper.

Grimmjow's grin faltered. Something about Ichigo's tone stung. Okay, so the boy was pissed, tired of being teased the whole night, but did he have to sound so angry? One would think that people had said that Ichigo was dating a baby killer judging from his reaction. Grimmjow was self aware enough to know that he wasn't the nicest guy on earth, but he didn't think he was  _that_  bad.

"Okay, okay, I admit it," he sighed. It had been fun, but he could tell that Ichigo was genuinely upset. "It's just a joke. We're not together."

As everyone at the table jeered, Grimmjow caught Ichigo looking at him gratefully. Grimmjow gave him a wink and chuckled when the boy blushed a deeper shade of red.

With that out of the way, the topic switched to the poker tournament that was being broadcasted on some of the nearby television screens. Grimmjow was more of a blackjack person himself, but he knew enough to follow the poker game that was in progress.

"I wish I can go there," Rangiku said wistfully as she stared at the screen.

"Where?" Ichigo asked.

"Vegas," Shuuhei supplied, pointing at the screen. "That's where the tournament's being held."

"Me too," Shinji muttered.

Nnoitra nodded. "Me too!"

Grimmjow grinned, eager to rub it in their faces. He hadn't told anyone about it yet, besides Tessai, but Vegas was exactly where he was planning to spend Christmas this year. He did a quick mental calculation; that's barely a month away.

"I'm going there soon," he announced cooly. He immediately felt all eight pairs of eyes on his face.

"For winter break?" Shinji asked longingly.

Grimmjow nodded with a smirk. "Yep, Christmas."

"You lucky son of a bitch!" That was Nnoitra, not even bothering to hide his jealousy.

Grimmjow didn't think his grin could go any wider, but the envious looks he was getting were too precious. It was only Vegas, but these kids made him feel like he was going to Mars for a vacation.

"Fuck, I'm gonna have to stow away in your luggage," Nnoitra grumbled, sounding completely serious.

Grimmjow chuckled, surprising himself when he realized that he had probably laughed more tonight than he had in the past five years combined. Ichigo's friends were alright, he decided.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	10. Chapter 10

"What do you think? These two look good together?"

Ichigo turned from his task and frowned at the dress shirt and slacks that were held up in front of him. He crossed his arms and brought a finger to his chin.

"I think the shirt's a little too dark," he said finally.

Grimmjow scowled and stuffed the shirt back into the closet and pulled out another one. "How about this?"

Ichigo gave the slate grey long sleeved shirt a once-over and nodded his approval. That was one of his favorite shirts. Or rather, one that he especially liked to see on Grimmjow. The color seemed to somehow accentuate the intensity of Grimmjow's ocean blue eyes, which Ichigo thought was Grimmjow's best feature.

"Alright! I'm done!" Grimmjow announced proudly.

Ichigo looked at the clothes that had just been dumped unceremoniously into his roommate's luggage and rolled his eyes. "Great, now they're going to arrive in Vegas in a wrinkled mess," he said. He folded his own clothes carefully and tucked them into his own backpack.

"Haven't you heard of laundry services in hotels?" Grimmjow asked in a tone that suggested that Ichigo was stupid.

Ichigo rolled his eyes again and huffed. "Not everyone stays at five-star hotels all their lives, you asshole," he shot back.

"But you love me anyway," Grimmjow retorted.

Ichigo heard his roommate zip up his luggage and turn on the television behind him. He kept his mouth shut the way he always did when he didn't know what to say. Not for the first time, he wished that Grimmjow would stop saying things like that. There was no need to pretend anymore as far as Ichigo was concerned. They had debunked their pretend relationship in front of his friends a month ago, and Sosuke hadn't done anything worse than greeting him now and then. There was no reason for them to pose as a couple anymore.

Yet, Grimmjow acted like they were still carrying on the front, even when the two of them were alone. Ichigo had tried and failed to ask Grimmjow to stop, so he had given up on that a long time ago. Now he was reduced to simply not responding and hoping that his lack of response would dampen Grimmjow's eagerness to rile him up.

Other than this, though, Ichigo was happy with the progress they'd made as…friends. Not mere roommates as they had been all along. This was what he had always wanted to have — a roommate with whom he could share more than just a room. Oh, they still drove each other up the wall, but where it used to be more out of spite and disrespect, it was now with playfulness.

Well, most of the time.

Grimmjow was still as cocky and rude as ever, and Ichigo still found plenty of reasons to nag and ridicule him, but they got along. Ichigo knew that Grimmjow's accident — the idiot refused to tell him the details — was the turning point, and he supposed that it was good that at least something positive had come out of that unpleasant experience.

But then again, this was all in his head. For all he knew, Grimmjow hadn't even noticed the shift in their friendship, or if he even cared. No matter how blurred the line got between Grimmjow's stupid game and their growing friendship, Ichigo knew that Grimmjow would never truly  _be_  with someone like him. That is, if the teen was even capable of having a relationship in the first place.

"So how long are you guys going to be on the road?" Grimmjow interrupted Ichigo's thoughts.

Ichigo did a quick mental calculation. "Well, there are a couple of places we want to stop in between, so I'd say maybe six. Seven at the most," he said.

"Damn." Grimmjow wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Why don't you just fucking fly?"

Ichigo sighed in exasperation. "Not everyone is as rich as you, Grimmjow," Then he grinned and added, "Plus, it's part of the fun, you know? Nine people in two cars, it's going to be awesome!"

"Nine?" Grimmjow brought up his fingers and started ticking off the names he knew. "I'm coming up short. Who're the other two?"

"Ikkaku and Yumichika," Ichigo replied.

Grimmjow's eyes widened, then he chuckled. "Of course, I forgot about him," he said.

Ichigo laughed. Grimmjow and Yumichika's first meeting — through Ichigo, that is — had been priceless. Yumichika wasn't aware that Ichigo would be bringing his roommate along for dinner a couple of weeks ago, and Grimmjow had no idea that Ichigo knew Yumichika. Their simultaneous "oh shit" expressions when they saw each other almost sent Ichigo writhing on the floor in a fit of giggles. The best part was that nobody else knew what was going on, and Yumichika had fled the scene before anyone could ask. Since then, Yumichika avoided Grimmjow like the plague.

Although, Ichigo had to say, he had expected Grimmjow's reaction to be a little more…lively. He had known that there would definitely be  _some_  reaction, which was why he didn't invite Yumichika for Grimmjow's recovery celebration. From Grimmjow, especially. Ichigo expected him to make a lewd comment — or a dozen — in front of Yumichika, but the teen had been surprisingly subdued after the initial shock. Perhaps something happened between them that Ichigo was not aware of. He was curious, but not enough to ask Grimmjow about it, lest he be bombarded with gory details about their bedtime activities.

"Well, I'm going to sleep, early morning tomorrow," Ichigo said after he made one last inspection of his luggage. Everything was in place except for his toiletries, which he would still need to use the next morning. He was all packed and ready to leave. They were supposed to meet at Shuuhei's apartment and then take off from there at nine.

"Good luck," Grimmjow mumbled around his cigarette as he was sprawled lazily on the lower bunk. He turned off the television and booted up his laptop.

As Ichigo climbed up the ladder — they didn't bother swapping their beds back — he caught a glimpse of two naked men writhing in the throes of passion on his roommate's screen. He groaned inwardly, especially when he noticed that his roommate's right hand was hidden beneath the covers. Well, at least Grimmjow was nice enough to mute the video.

* * *

Grimmjow sucked in a deep breath as he returned to the waking world reluctantly. He threw his covers open and stood up, avoiding the crumpled balls of soiled tissue paper next to the bed. He couldn't help but grin at the image of his roommate cringing at the sight of the evidence of his self-love session from last night.

He grabbed his toiletries and trudged lazily to the communal bathroom to get ready for the day. Unlike Ichigo, he didn't have to leave for his vacation until after lunch. He would take his sweet time, go through his bag one last time, then walk to the pasta place downtown to meet Tessai.

He couldn't wait to get on that plane to Vegas.

The campus was pretty much dead. Most students took advantage of winter break to go home or go on vacations. Grimmjow took his usual route to the downtown area, through the student union and past the college administration building. Tessai was already there waiting for him by the time he arrived at the restaurant.

"I took the liberty of making a dinner reservation for us at Michael Mina," Tessai said after the waiter took their orders.

Grimmjow's face lit up. The restaurant's lobster pot pie was to die for, and he'd been thinking of going there. Trust Tessai to read his mind as always.

When the server came back with their food, Grimmjow's phone rang. He fished it out from his pocket and raised an eyebrow when he saw the caller ID.

"Sup?" he said into the phone.

"Have you seen Ichigo today?" Shuuhei asked straight away.

Grimmjow frowned. "No," he replied, feeling puzzled. "Weren't you guys supposed to leave in the morning? He left the room before I got up."

He heard a muffled "fuck" from the other end as Shuuhei presumably relayed his response to the others.

"He's not there with you?" Grimmjow asked. He felt stupid even before he finished the question.

Shuuhei didn't tease him about it, though. "That's the problem. We thought maybe he'd overslept, but we've been calling him for the past hour and he hasn't picked up the phone," the boy said, sounding worried.

Grimmjow glanced at his watch and frowned some more. "It's almost twelve. You didn't think of calling him earlier? Weren't you guys supposed to leave at nine?"

"Well, yeah," Shuuhei muttered. "We kinda got up late too, and we figured that it's not a big deal if we leave late, you know?"

Grimmjow put down his fork and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ichigo is  _never_  late for anything. You should've known that."

"Yeah, way to rub it in," Shuuhei grumbled, sounding annoyed.

"I'll give him a call," Grimmjow said. "I'll call you back if I find him."

"We've already called—"

Grimmjow hung up before Shuuhei finished his sentence. Tessai gave him an inquiring look, but he ignored it in favor of making that phone call. He hit the speed dial key corresponding to Ichigo's number and waited. And waited. And waited. Then there was a click and Ichigo's cheery voice came through, "Hi, you've reached Kurosaki Ichigo. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now—"

Grimmjow hit the End button and placed his phone on the table. He wasn't really expecting to get a different result, but he just had to try. Where could the idiot be? It wasn't like Ichigo to ditch his friends without an explanation, and he was certain that Ichigo wasn't in the room when he woke up. The boy's hand-held luggage wasn't next to his desk where he had placed it last night.

Shuuhei's concern must've rubbed off on him, because now he was suddenly worried. It didn't make any sense. Ichigo was a big boy. His phone was probably on silent, and he could be having lunch by himself at this very moment for all they knew. There was no reason for them to overreact just because they couldn't find him for two hours. It wasn't like Ichigo was the president's son who could be in danger of getting kidnapped.

Grimmjow sat bolt upright, his blood suddenly running cold.

_Do you know what I want to do when I get my hands on Ichigo?_

Grimmjow's chair toppled backwards as he stood up abruptly. Tessai pushed his chair back as well, startled and confused by his young master's behavior.

"What's wrong?" the older man asked, taking his napkin off of his lap and placing it on the table.

"I'm sorry, Tessai," Grimmjow said, straining to talk around the lump of panic that had suddenly formed in his throat. "Looks like I'm going to have to miss that flight." Then, without waiting for a response from his mentor, he turned and ran in the direction of the dormitory.

Tessai stared after the teenager, stunned. After a few seconds, he pulled out a wad of bills and dropped them on the table, then he jogged to the car. He threw the door open and slid into the driver's seat and revved the engine. He hadn't the slightest clue what was going on, but he wasn't going to let the kid handle things alone.

Grimmjow stopped when he heard the familiar honk of Tessai's car.

"Get in."

* * *

Shuuhei, Shinji, Nnoitra, Hanatarou, and Izuru arrived about twenty minutes after Grimmjow called them. During that time, Grimmjow had scoured the entire room for any possible clues, any indication of where he could've gone. He even lifted Ichigo's mattress just in case the boy might've accidentally left his phone behind. Both desks were dragged to the center of the room but no notes had "accidentally fallen" behind them.

"Do you think the bus could've broken down half way?" Shinji asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet nervously.

Tessai shook his head. "I've driven along the routes that the bus would've taken. I didn't see anything."

"I thought he would've gone with you guys," Grimmjow said, looking questioningly at Shinji. "Don't you guys usually take the bus together?"

Shinji scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "We...err, I...thought Ichigo might've gone ahead without us. He  _did_  tell me last time that he'd leave my ass behind if I was late again."

Grimmjow rubbed his face as he sat down on his bunk bed. "So, when did you start calling him?"

"About five, ten minutes after ten," Shuuhei said, checking his phone log. "Yeah, first call at 10:08am."

They fell silent. That meant that none of them had had contact with Ichigo for at least three hours. Grimmjow hadn't heard a thing when Ichigo left in the morning; he could only assume that the boy had left some time between eight and nine, given that it only took a short bus ride to Shuuhei's apartment.

Hanatarou was the first one to break the silence. "Shall we file a missing persons report?"

"Tch, it's only been a few hours," Nnoitra said with a curl of his lip. "I say we look for him ourselves."

"Aren't you supposed to wait for some time before you can report a missing person?" Shinji asked.

Izuru piped up softly. "No, that's a myth. I think we should file it now, just in case." When he saw the surprised looks from his friends, he explained, "My uncle is a policeman."

"He's right," Tessai cut in. "Let's go, I'll take you guys. I can't fit everyone though..."

Shuuhei jingled his keys in his fist. "No problem, I'll drive the rest."

"Wait." Grimmjow jumped to his feet and threw open the drawer in Ichigo's desk. He tore off a small piece of paper and scribbled a note to Ichigo, asking him to give them a call when he saw the note, and left the note on the desk. He knew the likelihood of Ichigo actually finding the note and calling them were slim, but it was still a possibility.

Despite the growing concern in the pit of his stomach, Grimmjow bit his lip and willed himself to calm down. There was no proof that this had anything to do with Aizen.

* * *

The police sergeant filled up the form as he listened to Shuuhei and Shinji describe the situation. Grimmjow stood behind them, hands stuffed deep inside his pockets. Why was this taking so long? How hard could it be to understand that an orange-haired Japanese kid was missing? All this time they were wasting here, they could've been outside looking for Ichigo themselves just like Nnoitra had suggested.

Grimmjow knew that everyone was worried, but with each second, his worry was slowly turning into fear. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that Aizen was behind this. Nothing else could explain Ichigo's mysterious disappearance. Ichigo was a responsible person, he wasn't someone who would put his friends through something like this.

How could he not see this coming? Grimmjow felt like strangling himself. All this while he had been thinking that this was between him and Aizen, but of course it wasn't. He shouldn't known. The whole reason Aizen had a problem with him in the first place was Ichigo. If Aizen couldn't take Grimmjow out of the equation, the obvious alternative was to go straight for his target. If this was a matter of winning Ichigo's heart, then this wouldn't have worked. But as Aizen had so eloquently informed Grimmjow that night, he wasn't in this for Ichigo's affection.

When Shuuhei was asked to describe Ichigo's appearance for the third time, Grimmjow couldn't take it anymore. He stomped out of the room and headed for the exit of the police station. They were wasting precious time.

Grimmjow was getting into Tessai's car when Shuuhei and Shinji appeared, finally done with the missing persons report.

"Where are you going?" Shuuhei asked, sounding winded after the sprint from the entrance of the police station. "You're not just going to leave, are you?"

Grimmjow's eyes darkened. "I'm going to do something actually productive, Scarface. I'm done sitting on my ass waiting."

"Scarface?" Shuuhei looked stunned, and for a moment looked like he was offended. But then he purse his lips, presumably deciding that this was not the best time to bicker over something so juvenile.

"And what do you consider 'productive'?" Shinji asked sarcastically.

Grimmjow gripped the car handle. "I'm going to head to the bus stop, see if I can find anything. Someone might've seen Ichigo."

"That's actually a good idea," Izuru nodded his agreement.

Shuuhei nodded as well. "I'll go too."

"No, you check somewhere else," Grimmjow said firmly. "The student union. Maybe someone there might've seen Ichigo."

"But there's hardly anyone there," Shinji protested. "It'd be faster if we—"

Grimmjow slammed his palm into the door frame and stepped out of the car. He pulled himself to his full height, towering over Shinji and Shuuhei.

"This is not a discussion," Grimmjow hissed.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Shuuhei said, his temper fraying. "You don't even know—"

Shuuhei was smashed bodily against the car before he even realized that Grimmjow had grabbed him by the front of his t-shirt.

"This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for your incompetence," Grimmjow snarled, his voice rumbling in his chest. "So you are going to listen to me or I swear to God I will make you wish you have never been born."

Shuuhei narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean my incompetence?"

"If you had called Ichigo earlier, if you had picked him up instead of making him take the fucking bus-"

Shuuhei pushed the larger teen off of him. "How am I supposed to know this would happen? Don't you dare act like you're the only one who cares about Ichigo, asshole! I'm not the one who always treats him like he's a—"

A graceful hand pressed on Shuuhei's chest, stopping the dark-haired boy from lunging at Grimmjow.

"Grimmjow-kun is just worried," Izuru said soothingly. "Right?" He raised an eyebrow and looked warningly at Grimmjow.

Grimmjow took in a deep breath and braced his arms against the car. "We're wasting time," he said finally. "We should go now. I'm going to the bus stop. You can go wherever the fuck you want."

"Why are you so worked up anyway?" Shinji asked in disdain, disgusted by the way Grimmjow was placing the blame on Shuuhei. "You never give a shit about Ichi, we're the ones who truly care."

"Shinji-kun!" Hanatarou cried out in dismay as Grimmjow spun around and punched the blonde in the face.

Shinji yelped in pain, his hands flying to grab his nose. Grimmjow reared up to throw another punch, but a pair of strong arms enveloped him from behind. Grimmjow roared and kicked, but Tessai's grip was like an iron vice.

"The fuck's wrong with you?" Shuuhei yelled, rushing to his friend's side to inspect the damage.

The blonde opened up his hands and revealed a bloody nose. "Fug!" Shinji swore, his voice muffled as blood trickled down his nostril.

For a few minutes, there was silence except for Grimmjow's harsh breathing and Shinji's soft mewls of pain. Then Izuru spoke up.

"You know something, don't you, Grimmjow-kun?"

Grimmjow stiffened in shock. He had always discounted the other blonde's presence because of how quiet and timid he seemed, but it looked like he was actually the most perceptive and calm out of all of them.

All eyes turned to Grimmjow as they gradually realized the implication of his silence.

"What are you not telling us?" Shuuhei asked darkly.

That was it. Grimmjow knew he couldn't - and shouldn't - hide his suspicion anymore. It was their only clue.

"I think Aizen Sosuke might have him," he said slowly.

As the others stared in shocked silence, Grimmjow told them about the incident from that night. When he repeated Aizen's taunt about Ichigo, everyone's eyes widened, even Nnoitra's, who had been standing on the side looking kind of bored.

"You stupig idiog!" Shinji screamed through his still-bleeding nose.

Shuuhei clutched his hair and stared hard at Grimmjow. "And it never occurred to you to even warn Ichigo about it?" he asked incredulously.

Grimmjow bit his lip. No, it hadn't.

He had kept it to himself to protect his pride, to hide the humiliation from losing to that coward named Aizen. He had been so caught up in his own agenda that it never crossed his mind that Ichigo could be in danger.

"How could you be so stupid?" Shuuhei said, still looking at Grimmjow in disbelief. "We have to tell the sergeant. Come on, Shinji."

Shinji turned and followed Shuuhei back into the police station without sparing another glance at Grimmjow.

* * *

**To be continued…**

 


	11. Chapter 11

The first sensation that registered in Ichigo's mind was something brushing against his thigh. It felt like a hand, though he couldn't be sure since he was wearing his thickest pair of jeans. Then he took a deeper breath and realized that he was lying on his side on something soft. His cheek was pressed against silken fabric that smelled like freshly laundered sheets.

Ichigo cracked an eye open, feeling tired and confused. But even through the grogginess he knew that he wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to get on a bus and go to Shuuhei's apartment. He was going on a road trip. What the hell happened?

Then it came back to him like a home video played in slow motion.

He had been waiting at the bus stop for Shinji and the others, getting antsy and frustrated because his friends were late… _again_. He watched the bus leave, angry because he knew they could've been on it if Shinji were here. If the next one were to arrive before Shinji did, Shinji could go screw himself. Ichigo was going to get on that bus and leave his blonde ass behind. Waiting at Shuuhei's apartment was miles better than waiting by the side of the road by himself.

But the next thing to arrive wasn't a bus. It was a white luxury sedan with heavily tinted windows. It pulled up right next to Ichigo, prompting him to straighten up and look at it warily. Something about that car made Ichigo uncomfortable.

His instincts were proven correct when the window rolled down to reveal a face framed with dark sunglasses and heavily braided locks.

"Kurosaki-san," Tousen greeted politely.

Ichigo blinked as he heard the man's voice for the first time. In all the months he had interacted with Sosuke, he had never heard Tousen speak.

"What," Ichigo said flatly once he recovered.

Tousen smiled. The expression looked awkward and unnatural on his serious face, especially because the glasses completely obscured his eyes. "I was just running an errand for Aizen-sama and happened to see you standing here all alone," he said cooly. "Would you like a ride?"

"No," Ichigo said at once. He would rather  _walk_  to Shuuhei's than to step into the car with that creep.

Tousen's smile remained, and with a soft click, he opened the car door and climbed out as though Ichigo had accepted his offer.

"I said no," Ichigo repeated and took a step back.

"No need to be shy," Tousen said softly.

The last thing Ichigo remembered was something being pressed onto his face.

Now he blinked, his heart rate beginning to pick up as he realized his predicament. Too distracted by his situation, he had forgotten about the strange hand on his thigh until he felt it move to his butt. He gave a yelp and flinched.

"Ah, sleeping beauty is awake," a new voice said.

Ichigo wanted to push himself up from the bed but found that he couldn't. His arms were bound together behind his back, loose enough that it didn't hurt, but just tight enough to rob him of the mobility he needed. Gritting his teeth, Ichigo rolled over to his back and propped himself up on his elbows.

A man stood next to the bed, towering over him with a freakishly wide smile. Shoulder-length pink hair bobbed as the man bent over and grinned at Ichigo.

"Get away from me!" Ichigo said, backing away from the stranger. It was degrading to have to squirm backwards on his butt, but he was willing to do anything as long as it meant that the man wouldn't touch him again.

The stranger pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and circled around the side of the bed. "Aww, don't be afraid of me," he cooed.

Ichigo rolled away just as the man's hand reached for him again. He groaned as his shoulders protested. The man only laughed, seemingly amused by Ichigo's discomfort.

Ichigo's heart hammered painfully in his chest while his mind struggled to make sense of the situation. Tousen he could understand, but who the hell was this pink-haired freak?

"Szayel, what do you think you're doing?"

Ichigo turned to the door, for once thankful for Tousen's presence. The dark-skinned man stood at the door with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were still covered by his opaque sunglasses, but from his stance, Ichigo could tell that he was displeased.

The pink-haired stranger — Szayel — straightened up. "Tch," he spat.

"You should know better than to touch Aizen-sama's property," Tousen said coldly as Szayel walked past him.

"Tch."

Once the other man was out of sight, Tousen turned to Ichigo. "You alright?"

Ichigo shot the man a dark scowl. "What do you think!" he yelled. "What the fuck is this? Let me go!"

Tousen pushed away from the door and approached the bed. Ichigo instinctively backed away when the man crouched down next to the bed.

"Don't worry," Tousen said reassuringly. "Unlike Szayel, I know my boundaries."

Ichigo almost sighed in relief, but Tousen's next words drained the blood from his face.

"You are for Aizen-sama's consumption only, he would be  _very_  upset if any of us were to… _contaminate_  you," the man said casually, as though he was merely discussing a class project.

Ichigo wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but his throat was dry and he couldn't muster even a single chuckle. He shuddered to think of the type of  _consumption_ Tousen was referring to. It was obvious that Sosuke wasn't waiting to have dinner and a movie with him.

Tousen seemed not to notice Ichigo's climbing agitation. "Aizen-sama likes a little fight in his partners, but not too much. You can pretend to struggle, but no biting, no scratching, no spitting," he droned on. "He likes it when you scream, so try to do that if you can, even if he gags you."

Ichigo's eyes became larger and wider as he processed Tousen's "instructions". Surely he was mistaken. Tousen  _couldn't_  possibly mean…

"Wait, what's the meaning of this?" Ichigo asked frantically as Tousen began to stand up. His heart sank when the man simply turned and walked out of the room.

"Get the boy a glass of water," Ichigo heard Tousen say to someone outside.

Ichigo's shoulders slumped as he finally realized the danger he was in. He struggled to understand the sudden change from Sosuke's suave, "I want to sweep you off your feet" approach to this barbaric attempt to take him by force. He didn't even realize how scared he was until he felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face. He had never once imagined that he would face something like this in his life. There were so many of them and only one of him, how was he supposed to get himself out of this?

Shinji and the others must be wondering where he was. Ichigo's hope soared a little at the thought of his friends. He didn't know where his belongings were, but he was certain that if he were to check his phone, he would find that his friends had been trying to reach him. But there was no way for them to know what kind of trouble he was in right now.

Ichigo bit his lip and willed himself to calm down. Panicking now would do him no good. He would just have to hope that his friends would look for him, and hope that they would find him soon.

"Here's your drink, sleeping beauty."

Ichigo's head snapped up at the sound of Szayel's voice. The pink-haired man had just walked back in with a glass of water.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes and gritted out, "I don't want it."

A baby pink eyebrow arched in amusement. "Oh you will  _need_  it," Szayel assured him. "Otherwise you'd go hoarse even before Aizen-sama gets to the good part."

Ichigo felt a chill from the way Szayel smiled eerily as he spoke. He felt foolish but couldn't help comparing himself with a sacrificial virgin in a cult ceremony, where this man was the crazy head priest. Before he could back away, Szayel grabbed his face and ran his tongue along his cheek. Ichigo struggled and brought his knees up and kicked as hard as he could. He felt a rush of satisfaction as Szayel's face immediately contorted in pain. The man let go of Ichigo's head and grabbed his own groin, gasping and choking as he bent over.

But Ichigo's victory was short-lived. Szayel recovered quickly and lunged at him, arm raised to deliver a backhanded slap across Ichigo's face. Luckily for Ichigo, someone grabbed Szayel's wrist before he could land the blow.

"What did I tell you last time, Szayel?" Tousen asked in a monotone.

Ichigo stared at the two men, sensing the escalating tension and hatred between them. He didn't care what kind of history there was between these two, right now he was just glad that Tousen was there to stop this mad man, even if Tousen was only doing it so that Ichigo would not be "contaminated".

The sound of applause cut through the air abruptly, and the two men broke apart. Ichigo's hackles rose as he glared at the tall male who walked in. Sosuke's hair was swept back save for a wavy strand that fell over his forehead between his eyes. He smiled when his eyes landed on Ichigo.

"Aww, you shouldn't have," Sosuke said, as though someone had given him an extravagant Christmas present.

Ichigo scrambled away as Sosuke got closer, but the man simply climbed into the bed and followed him until Ichigo's back was pressed against the headboard of the bed.

"Look at you," Sosuke whispered, reaching out to hold Ichigo's jaw.

Ichigo tried to twist out of Sosuke's grasp but the man's grip tightened. In desperation, Ichigo shook his head from side to side, struggling but unable to throw the larger male off as his legs were trapped between the man's knees.

"So beautiful," Sosuke breathed into Ichigo's face, then he closed his mouth over the boy's lips.

* * *

Grimmjow cursed, slamming his fists on the dashboard in frustration as Tessai drove. They had spent — wasted — half an hour at the police station after Shuuhei told the sergeant about Grimmjow's suspicion. The policeman had rattled off question after question, nearly driving Grimmjow mad.

_No, he has never met Aizen Sosuke before this._

_Yes, Sosuke has been harassing Ichigo._

_No, it has not been reported before._

_Yes, there were more than one person involved in that fight_.

Grimmjow wanted to argue that it wasn't a fucking  _fight_ , but he kept his mouth shut. They could call it whatever they want if it meant Ichigo would be safe.

When the sergeant finally allowed them to leave, Grimmjow sprinted to the car and asked — more like commanded — Tessai to drive him to the bus stop. The older man was unfazed by Grimmjow's aggressive behavior and simply revved up the engine without a word.

Shuuhei and the others left in the other car. They had, in the end, agreed that they should split up and try to cover as much ground as they could as the police did their own investigation in parallel.

It took two more passes before Grimmjow spotted a man sitting against the wall next to a building next to the bus stop. It was a homeless man, one of the many who often loitered around the campus. Grimmjow didn't see the guy the first few times they drove past the bus stop, but there was still a chance that the man was here in the morning.

Grimmjow threw the door open and practically ran to the man. The man cowered in fear — and who wouldn't when a six foot two male rushed at you looking like he was going to kill you — as Grimmjow approached. When he finally realized that Grimmjow wasn't going to bash his head in with his bare hands, he relaxed visibly.

"Yes, I did see a kid like you described," the man said, his eyes widening in recognition. "I've never seen anyone with hair color like his."

"Did you see where he went? Did he get on a bus?" Grimmjow asked, hope rising in his chest.

The homeless man frowned. "No, not a bus," he said thoughtfully. "The bus came and went, but the kid didn't get on it. But a car came by after that…"

Grimmjow pulled out his wallet and threw a wad of bills in front of the man. "Tell me more about the car."

The man wrinkled his nose. "I was going to tell you anyway," he muttered, but he gathered up the bills all the same. "I'm just trying to remember…I think it was white, but I don't remember the make and model…"

"White car," Grimmjow repeated. He wanted to pound his fist into the man's face for remembering so little. This was the only lead they've gotten so far.

"I saw a man step out," the homeless man continued in a dreamy tone. "Couldn't see the face properly though, he was wearing one of those big wraparound sunglasses…"

Grimmjow closed his eyes with a groan.  _Tousen_.

"He came out, talked to the kid, and then the kid got into the car," the man finished.

Grimmjow frowned. Ichigo would not have gone with Tousen, at least not willingly. "Was there a fight? Did the kid do anything…unusual?"

"Unusual?" The homeless man scratched his head. "I…I don't know…I mean, they seem very close. I'm not a homophobe or anything…don't get me wrong…I'm not saying it's abnormal…"

Grimmjow pounded his fist into the pavement. "Just spit it out."

"The guy hugged the kid!" the homeless man shrieked in fright. "I saw him like, hold the kid real close. I thought they were kissing, you know? Like…"

Grimmjow stood up abruptly. He might not have seen what Tousen did to Ichigo, but he was sure it wasn't kissing. Being so close to Ichigo would make it easy for him to overpower the boy. Mouth set in a thin, determined line, Grimmjow fished out his phone and began to dial the police sergeant's number. As he waited for the call to go through, he grabbed the remaining bills in his wallet and dumped them into his informant's lap and ran off, ignoring the man's stuttering words of gratitude.

* * *

"I already told you everything he said, and I can identify Tousen!" Grimmjow yelled at the police sergeant, his arms held back by Shuuhei on one side and by Tessai on the other.

The policeman rubbed his face wearily as he explained that they needed to interview the eyewitness personally for more information. To Grimmjow's frustration, that meant precious minutes and manpower being wasted on locating the homeless man and bringing him back to the police station.

"In the meantime, we're running a search on Kaname Tousen. Once we obtain his address, we  _will_ go there and investigate. But we  _cannot_  take you with us, and no, we cannot give you the address. Please understand that."

"How can we just sit here and wait? I already told you what that bastard's gonna do to him!" Grimmjow bellowed, earning himself glances from the other people in the room; some curious, some stern.

"Please, Mr. Jaegerjaques, we're working as fast as we can," the police sergeant said patiently. "We've notified all our patrol units, and they are out there  _right now_  searching for the suspect."

Tessai placed his hand on Grimmjow's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Grimmjow, we need to let them do their job," he said, even though it pained him to say so.

The sergeant gave the older man a grateful nod. Grimmjow's shoulder slumped. He shrugged off Tessai and Shuuhei's hands and walked to the row of chairs lined up by the wall and sat down heavily in one of them. Shinji and the others were already sitting there, heads bowed and silent.

How could he possibly wait and do nothing, when Ichigo could be suffering right at this very moment? He didn't see why it was so hard to look up one fucking address and storm the place. Why couldn't he go with them? He wouldn't get in the way. He just wanted to see that Ichigo was okay. What if they were too late? What if Aizen had already…

He grabbed his hair and bent over in his seat, wishing for the hundredth time that he had warned Ichigo about Aizen before everything went to hell. Yes, Ichigo's friends were worried, but they didn't hear the words from Aizen's lips, didn't see the dangerous glint in Aizen's eyes the way he had.

Shuuhei crouched down in front of Grimmjow and said, "We're anxious too, but we've gotta trust them. They'll bring Ichi back."

Grimmjow snorted and looked away. Being the more level-headed one, Shuuhei had toned down his anger towards Grimmjow. Shinji, however, still adamantly avoided him and made it clear that it would be his fault if anything happened to Ichigo. Neither behavior mattered. Grimmjow hated himself just the same.

If Shuuhei was offended by Grimmjow's reaction, he didn't show it. He simply straightened up and gave Grimmjow's shoulder a quick squeeze before walking back to his seat next to Shinji. Grimmjow went back to staring at the floor and wishing that the police would just hurry the fuck up.

A few seconds later, somebody slid into the empty chair next to him. He turned and found himself staring into a big fat grin on Nnoitra's face. Anger welled up in his chest immediately. It was one thing to be silent and unsupportive, but to actually  _smile_  like this, like this was fucking  _amusing_ …

Grimmjow tightened his fists and fought the sudden urge to sock the taller boy in the jaw.

"Chill," Nnoitra leaned in and whispered into Grimmjow's ear. "I got some news fer ya."

Grimmjow frowned and looked intently into Nnoitra's dark grey eyes in a silent warning.

The teen moved closer and angled his back towards the rest of his friends. "So, I have friends in some  _low_  places," he went on in a whisper. When Grimmjow arched an eyebrow, Nnoitra's grin widened, revealing his upper teeth. "One of them owed me a favor." He reached into his pocket and produced a small slip of paper, which he passed to Grimmjow.

Grimmjow took it and squinted to read the godawful chicken scratch. It looked like two addresses.

Nnoitra bobbed his head as he watched Grimmjow's eyes widened in understanding.

"Tousen and Aizen?" Grimmjow whispered, his hand shaking in excitement.

Nnoitra nodded.

Grimmjow's clutched the piece of paper in his fist. Tessai was still with the officer, presumably answering questions regarding the location of the eyewitness. Grimmjow sneaked a sidelong glance at Tessai's jacket, which was draped over the back of the chair next to him. He swallowed, torn between impulse and logic.

"Tick tock," Nnoitra said softly.

"Fuck." Grimmjow grabbed his jacket and stood up, then he shoved his hand into Tessai's jacket pocket. When he withdrew his hand, he was holding Tessai's keys in his fist.

"Hey!" Shuuhei leaped up from his seat and lunged after Grimmjow, but the taller teen was already sprinting out of the police station with Nnoitra close on his heels. "Shit! Where the hell are you guys going?"

* * *

**To be continued...**


	12. Chapter 12

Grimmjow slammed the car door and jammed the key into the ignition. He could hear Shuuhei's shouts, but he ignored them. Next to him, in the passenger seat, Nnoitra was buckling up and waving cheerfully at his friends, who were running out from the police station to stop them.

With a violent stomp on the gas pedal, Grimmjow peeled out of the parking lot, leaving behind nothing but the acrid smell of burnt rubber from the tires.

"Dude, chill," Nnoitra said with a hint of amusement. "Ya gonna get us killed before we get to the kid."

Grimmjow grunted and eased up on the pedal, but the car was still going way above the legal speed limit.

"So, which one do ya wanna go?" Nnoitra piped up again.

"Aizen," Grimmjow gritted out. "It's more likely for Tousen to bring Ichi to Aizen than back to his own place."

Nnoitra bobbed his head. He gave Grimmjow a look and said slowly, "Ya know that we probably won't find the kid there, right? Aizen would be mighty stupid to do his…dirty work in his own house."

Grimmjow grunted again. "We don't have a choice," he said bitterly. "This is the only thing I can do."

The taller teen nodded, looking uncharacteristically sombre.

"Plus, I have a feeling the bastard's arrogance just might be his downfall," Grimmjow said, his lips pursed in a thin, grim line.

Nnoitra said nothing for a few seconds, then he finally muttered, "S'long as ya don't get ya hopes up too high."

The two teenagers fell silent after that; Grimmjow clutching the steering wheel like it was a life line while Nnoitra stared out the car window with his arms folded across his chest.

When they finally pulled up a block away from the luxury condominium complex, Grimmjow left the engine running and peered intently at the building. He frowned. Condominiums like that would no doubt have tight security. He'd have to find a way to get in.

He hadn't the slightest clue how.

"You know anybody else in those ' _low places_ ' who can lend a hand now?" he asked, trying — and failing — to use humor to calm his own nerves.

Nnoitra let out a bark of laughter. "Sorry, man. S'all I got."

Grimmjow jiggled his leg, a habit he often fell into when he felt anxious or nervous. Right now he was beyond nervous, and he  _hated_  it. He should be so much more than this. What happened to his bravery and aggressiveness? He hated the feeling of being so helpless, especially when they were most likely already too late. It wouldn't take long for Aizen to do all those things to Ichigo, especially when Aizen was not alone. Grimmjow remembered all those cowards who had pinned him down that night. If they could do that to him, they could do it just as easily to Ichigo.

"Go closer," Nnoitra said suddenly. "I think I see somethin'."

Grimmjow squinted but didn't see anything that would help their situation. He shoved the gear into Drive and moved the car down the road. They were by the roadside across from the complex. Grimmjow hoped that nobody would find them suspicious.

"There," Nnoitra pointed.

Grimmjow frowned and stared harder. Then he saw it — a moving truck parked around the corner of the complex. The back of the truck was open, revealing stacks of boxes and furniture. The glass entrance of the building was propped open, presumably for the movers' convenience. Just inside the entrance, sat a bald middle-aged man in a standard security guard uniform.

Security, just as Grimmjow had expected.

As they watched, a man wearing a beanie walked out from the door and went up to the truck. He shifted some boxes around, then gathered two in his arms and walked back through the entrance.

Right after that, another man walked past him on the way and went to the back of the truck. He climbed up into the truck and disappeared from Grimmjow's sight. A few tense minutes later, the man reemerged, dragging a medium-sized couch behind him. He jumped down from the truck and stood next to it, then glanced at the entrance of the building.

"He's waiting for the other guy," Grimmjow muttered, more to himself than to Nnoitra.

Nnoitra leaned over to peer through the driver's side window. "Looks like it."

The man shot another glance at the entrance and frowned, looking impatient. He brought his hands up to his mouth and blew on them before rubbing his palms together furiously.

Grimmjow tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He had an idea — a stupid one, but given enough boldness and acting skills, he just might pull it off.

His passenger sensed the heightened tension in his body and whistled. "Are ya thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Grimmjow turned around and gave Nnoitra a grin. "Keep an eye out," he said.

With that, he threw the car door open and stepped out. He gave both sides of the streets a quick look, then, stuffing his hands deep into his jacket pockets, he crossed the street. Just as he reached the other side, he turned slightly and saw another car — he recognized it as Shuuhei's a beat later — pull up behind his.

He could only imagine how angry they must be at him. He knew he was being impulsive. He knew he was walking into danger, but even if he couldn't save Ichigo, he could cause a distraction. He had to try.

Willing himself to look casual, Grimmjow sucked in a deep breath and approached the mover. "You need some help?"

The man eyed him curiously. "Not really, my colleague will be out in a bit."

Grimmjow puffed out his chest and summoned all the confidence he could muster. He had to look like he belonged here. "I'm on my way back up to my apartment. I can give you a hand." He gestured at the items still piled up in the truck. "Looks like you have a lot left to do, man."

"Yeah, don't remind me," the mover mumbled with a grimace.

Grimmjow pressed on, keeping his face as nonchalant as he could. "Sure you don't need a hand? I can at least help you get it into the lobby."

_Come on, come on…_

The man stole a quick peek at the door and bit his lip, obviously tempted by Grimmjow's offer. The lobby was warm.

Grimmjow groaned inside, his hope beginning to fade. Outwardly, he shrugged and said, "Suit yourself." He took one step towards the entrance.

"A'ight, a'ight," the mover said hastily. "I'll take up yer offer."

Barely containing his grin, Grimmjow shrugged again and went over to the back of the truck, from which half of the couch was sticking out. The man gave him a couple of quick instructions, and in no time, the two of them were at the entrance, panting heavily as they continued to carry the piece of furniture.

The security guard eyed Grimmjow with a hint of curiosity, but Grimmjow kept his face turned away and focused on getting the two-seater couch past the door. His heart pounded erratically in his chest. This was it — the true test of his plan. If the security guard knew exactly how many movers there were, he would be busted.

Before he knew it, he had gone past the guard.

Grimmjow nearly whooped in joy. He did it! He was  _inside_  the fucking lobby. A small part of him felt sorry for the residents who must be paying big bucks to the security company, but he sure wasn't complaining. The walls in the circular-shaped lobby looked like they were made of black marble, looking every bit as luxurious as the outside of the building did. A hallways branched off from the lobby, presumably leading to the elevators.

Grimmjow sneaked a quick look back at the guard. The man was now standing at the door looking outside.

"Hey, since we're already here, I might as well help you get it upstairs. What floor are you heading to?" Grimmjow asked the mover, lowering his voice just in case.

"Fourth," the man replied.

 _Perfect_. According to the unit number, Aizen's would be on the fifth. "Cool, it's on my way," Grimmjow said.

The mover gave him a grateful smile, and then the two of them maneuvered the couch down the hallway until they came to two sets of black, double-paneled doors. They dropped the couch gently onto the floor, and Grimmjow hit the Up button. Then they waited.

It occurred to Grimmjow suddenly that the other mover had yet to return. He paled a bit at the realization. It would be a disaster if the elevator doors were to open only to have the other guy walk out and ask him who he was. The question and the explanation would surely attract the guard's attention. His pulse immediately began to race, and he had to will himself to stop over thinking the situation.

With a soft "ding", the doors slid open smoothly. Grimmjow breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he saw that the elevator was empty. It was rectangular, ridiculously spacious with marble floor and mirrored walls. They would have no problem fitting the couch in there. Together, he and the mover wrestled the piece of furniture into the space and waited for the doors to close.

Grimmjow wished he didn't have to waste his precious time on moving the couch all the way to where it needed to go, but to bail out now would be too suspicious. So he once again took up one end of the couch and followed the mover to his destination, then he bid a hasty goodbye and bolted back to the elevators.

Then, he waited for it to take him to the floor above.

* * *

Ichigo breathed heavily through his nose. He couldn't see, couldn't speak. A while ago, Aizen had blindfolded him — chuckling as he did so — and now the man was tying a gag over his mouth.

Earlier, when he could still see, they had stripped him down to his boxers and tied him to the bars in the headboard. He didn't make it easy for them, and he had a split lip to show for it. He had managed to knee the pink-haired freak in the groin again, but it was Aizen who had delivered the blow to his face. To teach him a lesson, the man had said.

Now, without his sight, he was truly afraid. In the beginning, he was able to place where each of the men were based on their voices, but after a while, everything went silent. Whether they did it on purpose, he wouldn't know. Maybe it was all part of his "lesson", to keep him on edge and wear him down mentally. He wasn't quite there yet, but he knew it was just a matter of time.

Speaking of time, Ichigo had completely lost sense of it. He didn't know how long had passed. It could've been an hour, could've been a day. All he could use to judge time was his thirst and hunger. He was thirsty, but not very hungry, so it probably hadn't been more than a day. He was supposed to be on a road trip with his friends, not stuck here surrounded by these creeps. He wondered briefly what his friends were doing. Were they freaking out because of his disappearance? Were they even aware that he was gone?

He thought of Shinji, trying to picture the panic on the blonde's face. Then he thought of Grimmjow. The lucky bastard was probably on the plane right now, enjoying the perks of flying first class to Vegas.

Thinking of his friends just made Ichigo all the more aware that he was alone in this fucked up situation. The knowledge that he wouldn't be able to see what would happen to him until he felt it eclipsed his discomfort at being so exposed. When Aizen suddenly held his face to tie the gag just now, he had flinched so much that he'd actually hit his head against the headboard.

"There, there," Aizen cooed in his ear. The man caressed Ichigo's cheek with the back of his fingers, his touch so gentle that it was eerie.

Ichigo kept quiet, knowing that making any noise would just get Aizen off even more. He was lucky so far; the man hadn't done anything beyond that sorry excuse of a kiss. Ichigo had a feeling that Aizen was toying with him, letting him stew in fear, just waiting for the right time to strike for real. And now that Aizen had gone on to gagging him, Ichigo had a feeling that the "right time" was about to start.

And then all of a sudden, came deafening banging sounds from outside. Ichigo knew he was inside a bedroom, so whoever it was must be banging on the front door. Ichigo's heart soared. It must be the police! They were here for him, finally!

"Get the door," Aizen said, his silken voice void of emotions but no less commanding.

Ichigo heard footsteps leaving the bedroom. A few seconds later there was a yell, followed by loud scuffling sounds. Something crashed to the floor — a vase? — and then there were more footsteps and more yelling and cussing and fighting. Ichigo strained to listen, to picture what was going on outside. It definitely didn't sound like the police. Surely his friends weren't so stupid as to—

"Look who we have here!" Aizen announced suddenly, sounding amused.

Ichigo turned to where Aizen's voice was coming from, but of course he couldn't see anything.

After a few seconds, AIzen came to the same realization. Aizen laughed, then Ichigo felt his blindfold being pulled over his head. Overwhelmed by the sudden brightness, Ichigo blinked a few times before the sight in front of him registered in his brain.

"Grimmjow?"

His roommate glared at him through messy strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead from the scuffle. Grimmjow had a small gash above one of his eyebrows, but other than that, he looked intact. His arms were held behind his back by a freakishly tall and muscular man sporting bushy sideburns and a triumphant grin.

"What a touching reunion," Aizen clucked, looking from Ichigo's stunned expression to Grimmjow's defiant one. His gaze hardened as he turned to Grimmjow. "This time you won't be so lucky, Jaegerjaques. It will be my pleasure to hear you scream again."

Ichigo blinked dumbly as Grimmjow sneered at Aizen's taunt.

"Sleeping beauty looks confused," Szayel commented with a sly grin from the giant's side.

"Oh, you never told him!" Aizen said, both eyebrows raised towards his hairline. "How honorable!" He sat down on the bed and smiled sweetly at Ichigo. "You see, a while back, I asked him  _very nicely_  not to get in my way. But he wouldn't listen."

Aizen paused as Ichigo connected the dots.

"As you must have noticed, I left him a very nice souvenir," Aizen continued. "He was lucky. I'd wanted to give him two."

Ichigo gaped at his roommate, finally learning the truth behind Grimmjow's so-called accident. He couldn't speak because of the gag, but his eyes screamed "why" as he stared at Grimmjow. Why didn't Grimmjow tell him?

"He was so brave then, refusing to leave you alone even under threat," Aizen drawled, obviously enjoying the look of shock on Ichigo's face. "You should've seen his face when I told him what I'd do to you! I had thought that you two were just toying with me about being together, but he proved me wrong that night. You have  _such_  a devoted boyfriend, Ichigo."

Ichigo searched Grimmjow's face for his reaction, but all he saw was anger and hatred. He couldn't believe it. Grimmjow had gotten beaten up because of  _him_? Did Grimmjow really care so much for him?

But he never got a chance to think further on that topic, because right at that moment the front door crashed open and all hell broke loose.

* * *

The second Grimmjow felt the hold on his arms loosen just a fraction, he twisted his body and wrenched himself free. He didn't really know what was going on, but the ear-piercing shrieks of "Police!" were enough to tell him that it was not a bad turn of events. He fell to his knees from the momentum of freeing himself, but immediately picked himself up and lunged for Ichigo.

His blood boiled at the sight of the boy being subjected to such an undignified position. His first thought was to get to Ichigo before anyone else could see him like this, but he skidded to a stop when he saw what Aizen was doing.

The brunette had a knife pressed against Ichigo's neck while his other hand undid the restraints on Ichigo's wrists. The boy winced when the metal cuffs cut into his skin as Aizen's pulled them free roughly. Once Aizen was done, he hooked his arm around Ichigo's neck and yanked him off the bed.

"Ichi!" Grimmjow screamed, even though he knew that he was too late.

The police officers who had been pinning Aizen's accomplices to the floor stood up and backed away as Aizen walked towards them, using Ichigo as his shield. Ichigo squirmed, but the knife at his neck prevented him from doing anything more than that.

"Somebody has been incompetent," Aizen spat, looking pointedly at Tousen, who was lying down on his stomach with his arms laced behind his head.

Grimmjow looked between Aizen and the police officers, feeling more frantic than he liked. What was this shit? Were they just going to stand there and let the bastard walk away?

The entire suite was silent except for Aizen's soft chuckles as he continued to move forward. Ichigo had no choice but to follow, but he dragged his feet, making their progress slow and pissing Aizen off in the process. The brunette made his annoyance known by pressing the knife harder against the Ichigo's throat.

Grimmjow felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when the blade bit into Ichigo's skin. Ichigo yelped in pain and struggled, only to have the cut deepened. Blood seeped from the wound and stained the stainless steel knife.

Then, to the horror of everyone in the room, Ichigo's eyes slid closed, and he slumped limply against Aizen's body.

* * *

It hurt like a bitch, but it worked! Ichigo felt Aizen stumble as he let his full weight drop back against Aizen's chest. He felt the knife leave his neck as the brunette scrambled to keep himself — and his hostage — upright. Seizing that opening, Ichigo drove his elbow as hard as he could into the body behind him. He heard Aizen's breath leave him in an audible gasp. The grip around Ichigo's neck faltered, and Ichigo pushed it away easily before driving his elbow into Aizen's gut one more time.

And then it was suddenly over. Somebody grabbed Aizen from behind and knocked the weapon out of his hand. Ichigo felt himself being pulled into an embrace and he let himself sag against the firm chest, too relieved and happy to even see who it was.

It was only until he recognized the jacket that had been draped over his shoulders did he finally turn around. Without thinking, he threw his arms around his roommate and proceeded to squeeze the life out of the other teenager.

It was over. It was  _finally_  over. He was still half naked and shivering but  _he was free_. His relief flowed out of his body in the form of unbidden tears which immediately soaked through the collar of Grimmjow's shirt. If Grimmjow noticed it, he — for once — acted like a true gentleman and kept his mouth shut. Ichigo felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his back; tentatively at first, as if Grimmjow was afraid that he would break upon contact, and then they tightened around him with almost crushing force.

Ichigo didn't know how long they stayed entangled like this, but a paramedic eventually pried them apart and led Ichigo aside to be examined. The cut on his neck was not as serious as it looked, but it still required cleaning and bandaging. The skin on his wrists were chaffed and bruised, but nothing was broken. He had, miraculously, pulled through the ordeal relatively intact. Still, they wanted to bring him to the hospital for a more detailed examination.

To Ichigo's dismay, his belongings — including his clothes — were deemed as evidence and were carted away by the police. An officer told him gently that it was only temporary and that they would return his things to him once they finished collecting the data that they needed. Seeing that he had nothing on but a pair of boxers and a jacket, one of the paramedics handed him a thick blanket to cover himself, which he did.

As they walked out of the front door of the Aizen's suite, Ichigo finally asked, "Why?"

The adrenaline had drained from his body, the initial rush of relief had passed, and now his head was picking up on something Aizen had said earlier.

Grimmjow looked confused for a second, then his face broke into his signature grin. "'Cause the police are too damn slow," he said, lowering his voice as police officers walked past him.

Ichigo stopped. His heart rate picked up as he realized that what he was going to say next might be a turning point for their friendship.

"No, that's not what I meant," he said, keeping his voice soft so that only Grimmjow could hear it. He watched his roommate's face closely and noticed how the boy paled slightly under his gaze. "Why'd you let them beat you up when you could just walk away? Why are you here,  _alone_ , when you were supposed to be Vegas?"

Grimmjow opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Ichigo was tackled from behind by a sobbing Shinji. Ichigo yelped indignantly but couldn't help laughing at the same time. Shuuhei was next, the normally quiet teenager catching Ichigo in a bear hug. And then Nnoitra popped up behind them, followed by Hanatarou and Izuru. And last but not the least, there was Tessai, who looked like he was torn between hugging them both and killing Grimmjow for being so reckless.

Ichigo had so many questions to ask, front and foremost being how they had known where to find him, but his friends seemed adamant on overwhelming him with pats and hugs and screams of joy. It was all he could do to assure them that he was fine and try not to get crushed under their combined body weight.

"It's too bad that our plan is ruined," Ichigo said wistfully, referring to their road trip. He was sure that he would be stuck at the police station for questioning and paperwork to wrap up the incident. By the time he was done, break would probably be over. Even if they still had a few days left, the hours they needed to spend on the road would take up most of the time and the trip would be pointless.

"Don't be stupid," Shuuhei scolded immediately.

Shinji shot Ichigo an equally incredulous look and swatted him on the back of his head, much to the chagrin of the paramedic who was standing at the side watching them manhandle his patient.

A voice piped up. "It ain't ruined." Grimmjow grinned, his eyes gleaming with glee. "We'll just have a change of plans."

Seven pairs of eyes turned to look him.

"How would you guys like to fly to Vegas?"

* * *

**To be continued…**


	13. Chapter 13

"Was  _that_  amazing or what!"

Shinji's face was practically glowing as he gushed about the world's most famous magician. Ichigo chuckled, his cheeks flushed from the rush of excitement from the show.

"It's fucking sick!" Nnoitra said, his raven locks messy because he had been clutching his head throughout the show trying to figure out how the tricks were done.

Grimmjow smiled to himself as his friends continued to chatter loudly all the way from the theatre in MGM Grand to Bellagio, where he had gotten a Penthouse suite for them. He had wanted to get several smaller suites to fit two to three of them in each suite — there were ten of them after all, not including Tessai — but they had insisted that it would be more fun for them to stay together. The one he got now had two bedrooms that were connected to an adjoining Tower Deluxe guest room; a bit of a tight squeeze for all of them, but they wouldn't settle for anything bigger. As for Tessai, Grimmjow had gotten him a smaller suite of his own on the same floor, sparing the man from the headache called ten teenagers.

Ichigo's estimation hadn't been too far off from reality. By the time he was given the green light to leave, it was already close to Christmas. Grimmjow was able to arrange for them to be on the first flight to Vegas the very next day, so here they were now, on the evening of Christmas Eve, heading for the famous buffet at the Bellagio.

Grimmjow leaned against the wall as they waited in line, his ears hearing the conversation around him but not paying enough attention to understand it. His mind was elsewhere, back in Aizen's suite where the man had revealed the truth behind his injury in front of Ichigo. He had been too upset and angry at the time to put much thought into it, but the glint of shock and disbelief in Ichigo's eyes, along with something else that he wasn't familiar with, had stayed with him since then. It bothered him more than he liked to admit. He had never liked to analyze stupid things like  _feelings_. Those things couldn't be seen, couldn't be quantified, and worst of all, couldn't be controlled.

But most of all, he was dreading the day Ichigo would ask him those two questions again — the ones that the boy had thrown in his face right before the others ambushed him. Ichigo hadn't mentioned them since then, so Grimmjow was more than happy to pretend that it had never happened. He could see, though, from Ichigo's eyes, that the boy was itching for an opportunity to talk to him about it.

In the meantime, as long as Ichigo hadn't asked him yet, Grimmjow was determined  _not_  to freak out over it. No matter how riled up he was about it, he refused to let it ruin his vacation. So he eventually forced himself to abandon such depressing thoughts and joined the lively chatter.

Dinner was a noisy and lengthy affair. After the two-hour wait, they were determined to eat their worth of food. By the time they were done, Grimmjow literally had to pop the button of his jeans in order to breathe properly. Then they made their way up to their suite. Nnoitra, of course, had to belch in the elevator half way through their journey to the thirtieth floor, forcing them to evacuate from the elevator on the seventeenth floor for fresh air.

Laughing and cursing at the lanky teen, they eventually arrived at their suite.

It was absolutely gorgeous, just a little over two thousand square feet, with a foyer that led to a spacious entertainment lounge complete with a forty-two inch TV. A dining room large enough for six lay next to the lounge. Next to it was the Master bedroom with a King-sized bed and separate his and hers marble baths with whirlpools.

On the opposite side of the suite, next to the lounge, was another bedroom, also furnished with a King-sized bed and separate bathrooms. And beyond that, the bedroom was connected to a smaller guest room that held two Queen beds.

Earlier that day when they first arrived, Rangiku had squealed in delight as soon as she set foot into the suite while the others simply stood still, too stunned for words. Grimmjow had never stayed at such a lavish suite himself, and he secretly chuckled as he tried to picture the shock on his father's pompous face when he received the credit card statement. It wasn't his fault that the old man didn't put a limit on his credit card.

The night was still young, so they decided to play — what else — strip poker. Ikkaku was the only one of legal age among them, so they had to settle for gambling inside the suite. But of course he had to put his age to good use and sneaked in a few bottles of wine and beer.

"Okay, make sure you have no more than five articles on your body! No cheating!" Shuuhei announced, pounding his fist on the coffee table to get everyone's attention. "Hanatarou, don't think I didn't notice that you're wearing an undershirt!"

Grimmjow laughed as the smallest of their group turned beet red and took off his jacket grudgingly. They formed a circle in the lounge, forgoing the coffee table as it was too small for the ten of them. By chance or by will — he wasn't sure which — Grimmjow found himself sitting right across from Ichigo. He grinned at his roommate, who immediately returned a challenging smirk, and  _it was on_.

Half an hour into the game, Ichigo was down to his t-shirt, boxers, and socks. Grimmjow was faring alright himself, having lost only his jacket and socks. Hanatarou was the worst, wearing nothing but a pair of tiny whities.

Then, Shuuhei won the next round with a full house. The group howled in glee as Hanatarou shrieked and bolted into one of the rooms, refusing to strip naked. Amidst loud jeers and laughter, the rest of them each removed a piece of clothing. Grimmjow tugged his long-sleeved t-shirt over his head and threw it aside, then he lifted his head and went still.

Across from him, Ichigo was unbuttoning his light blue shirt. Grimmjow swallowed as his roommate's chest was revealed, inch by delicious inch. Throughout their co-occupancy of their dorm room, Ichigo had not once took off his clothes in front of Grimmjow. That day in Aizen's room was the first time Grimmjow ever set eyes on Ichigo without a shirt on. Naturally, under those circumstances, he hadn't paid any attention to how Ichigo looked, but  _now_  he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Ichigo was on the slender side, his body lean and compact. He was fit, but not in the muscular way like Grimmjow was. As the shirt was gradually peeled off, Grimmjow stared at his roommate's bare torso, awed by how smooth and firm it looked. He didn't know if it was the alcohol talking, or if it was simply because it was a rare sight, but he was suddenly seized by an urge to touch that body. He wanted to feel Ichigo's skin and see if it was as soft as it looked, to feel the boy's body heat beneath his fingers. His eyes crawled greedily upwards, past the angular shoulders and up the pale throat, to the pink lips parted in laughter and up to the brown eyes—

His thoughts died instantly when he suddenly realized that those brown eyes were staring right at him.

Ichigo gave him a nervous-looking smile but didn't cover himself, then after a few seconds the boy looked away. Grimmjow was left gaping at Ichigo's cheek, his face burning with something that felt suspiciously like a blush. He shook his head vigorously, feeling horrified. Grimmjow Jaegerjaques did not  _blush_.

* * *

Ichigo shifted uneasily under his roommate's burning gaze. Every since his shirt came off, Grimmjow had been stealing glances at him whenever the teen thought he wasn't looking. He had to admit that it was quite flattering, but at the same time he felt self conscious, like he had to suck his tummy in the entire time so that he wouldn't look fat — quite a feat in itself seeing that he had just gorged himself at the buffet.

It didn't help that he hadn't been able to muster up the courage to talk to Grimmjow about  _that topic_  sine the other day. The unresolved questions sat heavily on his mind, distracting him during the day and haunting him during the night. It had been easy when his self confidence was boosted by what Aizen had said and by the look of concern on Grimmjow's face, but now that things had settled down, he just couldn't bring himself to mention it again even when it was just the two of them in their dorm room.

He fiddled with the cards in his hands and sneaked a quick peek at his roommate. Grimmjow seemed to have suddenly developed an insatiable thirst for alcohol since Ichigo caught him looking for the first time. The teen's cheeks were flushed, and his voice was getting obnoxiously loud. Nobody else seemed to notice, though, so Ichigo kept his curiosity to himself.

Nnoitra was the next one to leave the game, going out with an eye-catching exit as he discarded the last thread on his body. The boy flung his boxers at the television and wiggled his hips at his friends before strutting over proudly to retrieve his clothes, which were scattered all over the lounge.

Ichigo nearly shot soda out of his nose as he doubled over, laughing so hard that his stomach cramped up. When he finally lifted his head, he caught Grimmjow looking at him again. The teen quickly averted his eyes in a poor effort to pretend that he was simply observing the wall behind Ichigo.

Ichigo felt like strangling the pervert.

By the time the game ended, most of them were incoherent, the worst being said pervert. He wouldn't stop laughing, even after Shinji gave him two stinging slaps across his face. Ichigo frowned in concern and went over to his roommate's side, only to receive a hiccup right in his face. Ichigo nearly gagged as the smell of alcohol assaulted his nostrils, but he gritted his teeth and tried his best to haul Grimmjow onto his feet. It was a near impossible feat; luckily for Ichigo, Shuuhei was awake enough to help him drag the larger teen into the Master bedroom.

Once Grimmjow was dumped face-down on the King-sized bed, Shuuhei yawned and bid them goodnight, leaving Ichigo standing there alone in dismay. Ichigo looked at his still-giggling roommate and slapped his own forehead. He hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol, but he was bone-tired from the long day and all that laughing. Baby-sitting a drunk was definitely not on his list of top-ten things to do in Vegas.

But what could he do? Sighing, Ichigo poked Grimmjow's arm.

"What," came the mumbled response.

"Scoot up, the pillow's over there," Ichigo said, pointing to the head of the bed.

Grimmjow turned to look in that direction and groaned. "Too far."

Ichigo rubbed his face even as his lips twitched. This was so unfair. He was tired and annoyed, but he could feel the urge to laugh bubbling up from his chest. Why was it that he just couldn't stay mad at this idiot? He eyed the unmoving figure and huffed.

"Come on, I need to sleep too," he gritted out, looking at the pillows longingly. "You're taking up too much space, move over!"

Grimmjow groaned again, then he lifted an arm. "Drag me there."

"What?" Ichigo stared at the other teen, torn between laughing and crying. Grimmjow was deadweight in this condition, how was he supposed to  _drag_  him there? But he found himself climbing onto the bed and trying anyway. Half-sitting, half-crouching, he grasped Grimmjow's outstretched hand by the wrist and tugged.

No movement.

"Come on, help me out here," Ichigo groaned, tugging once more.

"Nooo…" Grimmjow mumbled childishly.

Ichigo's laughter finally spilled from his mouth. He had never seen his rough and tough roommate like this, and wasn't even aware that he was even capable of acting this way. It was almost adorable.

"Gah, move! You're so damn fat!" Ichigo grunted and gave an extra hard heave. To his delight, Grimmjow actually lurched forward a coupe of inches.

"Oww," Grimmjow immediately complained.

Another giggle burst forth from Ichigo's mouth despite his irritation. Digging his heels firmly into the mattress, he mustered all his strength and pulled again. This time, Grimmjow slid almost two whole feet towards him, mumbling "oww" the entire way.

Grumbling under his breath, Grimmjow finally got onto his hands and feet and crawled grudgingly towards the mountain-like pile of pillows. Ichigo's eyes widened as the drunken teenager came closer, and he began to scramble away, but Grimmjow collapsed on top of him before he could escape the danger zone.

"Hey!" Ichigo squirmed beneath the crushing weight. "Oh my god you're so heavy!"

Grimmjow's only reply was to bury his face into Ichigo's stomach.

Ichigo struggled, flailing his arms and digging his heels into the sheets to pull free, but Grimmjow wrapped his arms around his torso and clung to him like he was a body pillow. After about a dozen failed attempts, Ichigo slumped back against the pillow in defeat.

Grimmjow seemed uninterested in falling asleep, instead choosing to mumble incoherently into Ichigo's stomach. His breath was warm and wet against Ichigo's bare skin, reminding Ichigo that he didn't have a shirt on. Neither did Grimmjow, for that matter. To make things even more awkward, the larger teen's bare chest was resting heavily over Ichigo's hips; every time Grimmjow sucked in a breath, his chest expanded and pressed against Ichigo.

Ichigo looked down at his roommate and sighed, noting how different he looked now compared to the other day, when he burst into Aizen's apartment to save him. Grimmjow had looked almost feral then, his eyes dripping with hatred and teeth bared as if he would sink his teeth into Aizen's throat if he was given the chance.

"Ichi," Grimmjow mumbled suddenly.

"Hmm?" Ichigo lifted his head.

"Ichi," Grimmjow repeated.

Ichigo struggled to sit up under Grimmjow's weight. "What?"

"Ichi."

Ichigo rolled his eyes in exasperation. He raked his fingers through Grimmjow's thick blue locks and tugged on them lightly to get the boy's attention. "What is it?"

"Mmm," was all he got from Grimmjow.

Ichigo sighed, finally accepting that he wasn't going to get anything more from his drunk roommate. He lay back down on the pillows and closed his eyes. Grimmjow was like a giant hot water bottle; once Ichigo got used to the weight, it actually felt kind of nice. Slowly, he began to fiddle with Grimmjow's hair, caressing his roommate's head as he gradually relaxed.

Grimmjow purred in approval and nuzzled Ichigo's stomach lazily. Ichigo immediately giggled. Grimmjow seemed to perk up at the sound, and he rubbed his nose over Ichigo's skin again.

"Stop it, it tickles!" Ichigo smacked the top of Grimmjow's head, but the other teen simply did it again; except this time he also blew lightly on that same spot. Ichigo's toes curled as his skin broke out into goosebumps.

Then, the next thing he knew, Grimmjow was crawling upwards, dragging his body over Ichigo's until the two of them were looking each other in the eye with mere inches between them.

"Uhh," Ichigo muttered and swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

Grimmjow looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes and gave him a lopsided grin. "You look good tonight," he announced.

Ichigo raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Of all the things that were running through his mind,  _this_  certainly wasn't one of them. "Uhh, thanks?" he said tentatively. "You're drunk. Time to sleep, idiot."

"I don't wanna," Grimmjow said, still grinning. Then he leaned down and  _licked_  Ichigo's cheek.

Ichigo's eyes went wide in shock. Was this the flirtatious Grimmjow who liked to tease him just to irk him, or was this the Grimmjow who cared for him enough to risk his life to save him, or was this simply the Grimmjow who was acting weird because he was drunk?

"Grimmjow, this is not funny, get off me," Ichigo said, making his voice as stern as he could, but his voice faltered when Grimmjow pulled away to peer intently at him. Ichigo searched his roommate's seemingly bottomless blue eyes. He couldn't tell; he couldn't tell which version of Grimmjow this was.

Grimmjow blatantly ignored his admonition. Ichigo panted nervously as Grimmjow continued to study him, the thin blue brows furrowed slightly as if he was deep in thought. That gaze unnerved Ichigo, and his heart rate suddenly spiked, his body warning him that something was going to happen.

"Grimm—"

The rest of Ichigo's sentence was abruptly silenced when Grimmjow pressed his lips aggressively against his mouth.

Ichigo went still.

It was like their first kiss at the student union again — that same feeling of not being in control of his body, the same experience of Grimmjow sliding his tongue into his mouth, uninvited yet irresistible. Ichigo felt himself being pressed deeper into the fluffy pillows as Grimmjow pinned him down and deepened the kiss, nipping and sucking on his lower lip and tongue with an intensity that set his cheeks ablaze.

Eventually, Ichigo recovered enough to start pushing the larger teen off of himself, but Grimmjow was relentless. Ichigo gasped in surprise when Grimmjow left his mouth to lick his neck. The licking turned to kissing, then sucking, then nipping. The sensations were completely new to Ichigo, but his body responded instinctively. To his embarrassment, he felt himself harden beneath Grimmjow.

"Gri—ah…"

Ichigo's attempt to stop his roommate dissolved into a long moan as Grimmjow repeated the same treatment on the other side of his neck, leaving two pink, glistening trails behind.

"Ah…shit," Ichigo groaned. The tiny flame in his groin flared at once when he felt Grimmjow's tongue on his chest.

The gears in Ichigo's mind turned furiously as his body continued to act on its own. His perception of his roommate had changed dramatically over the past week, but did he want this? Or more specifically, did he want this so soon? He may be inexperienced, but he knew what was going on and where this would probably lead to…the question was, did he want Grimmjow to stop?

His moans turned into whimpers when Grimmjow took one of his nipples into his mouth. Even drunk, Grimmjow seemed to know what he was doing; Ichigo's breath became more ragged with each flick of that skillful tongue, his body arching unconsciously and pressing harder against Grimmjow.

Did he want this to stop?  _Did he want this to stop?_

Ichigo bit back a sob as he was torn between his logical mind and his building arousal. What if this ruined their friendship? What if this turned out to be another one of Grimmjow's one-night flings? Could he deal with it?

Grimmjow made a sound as he suddenly came back up to give Ichigo's lips a rough nip - something like a mix between a growl and a groan. Ichigo moaned softly as the sound travelled down his body and pooled between his legs, fanning the flame there just a little more. Grimmjow was moving faster now, his pants getting harsher, more desperate.

Ichigo decided then. He didn't want this to stop.

With his mind made up, Ichigo allowed himself to immerse fully into the pleasure and truly appreciate the way Grimmjow was worshipping his body. He kissed back, catching Grimmjow's tongue lightly between his teeth. Grimmjow moaned into his mouth, and Ichigo felt one of Grimmjow's hands move down to his hip. Then a knee wedged itself between his thighs.

Ichigo held his breath and shifted his legs tentatively to let Grimmjow settle between them. He could sense the escalating urgency in the other teen, and his own pulse raced in response. Grimmjow started grinding against him, their thin boxers dulling the friction only slightly. Ichigo lifted his hips and ground back, his eyes sliding shut as wave after wave of pleasure ripple outwards from his groin. He was completely hard now, and he could feel that Grimmjow was, too.

"Ichi," Grimmjow murmured into Ichigo's neck.

Grimmjow reached between them and tugged on the waist band of Ichigo's boxers. His intention was clear. Ichigo raised his hips to let the garment slip past his hips and down his thighs, and then he wiggled out of it. Panting heavily, Grimmjow began to undress himself, his hands shaking and uncoordinated in his haste.

Ichigo took the opportunity to reach over to the bedside table and grab the bottle of hand lotion that was supplied by the hotel. Then he opened it and held it out for Grimmjow. He hadn't done this before, but he knew enough to know what was needed, and he wasn't about to let himself suffer just because they were in a hurry.

When the first slicked finger entered him, Ichigo arched his back and gasped, surprised by the unfamiliar touch. The second followed almost immediately, then the third. He hissed at the discomfort, but Grimmjow's desperation was rubbing off on him, so he didn't protest.

But when the thick, blunt heat pressed against him, he tensed up. This was it — the moment he was going to lose his virginity. It pained him to know that Grimmjow wasn't completely sober, but he wanted it now badly enough that he was willing to deal with the consequences later.

Ichigo gasped loudly when Grimmjow entered him; the other teen at least aware enough not to ram it in all the way at once. Grimmjow rested his forehead on Ichigo's and slowly pushed in deeper. Ichigo clenched his eyes tight and strained against the burning ache, his nails digging into Grimmjow's arms as he clung to him.

"You're so hot," Grimmjow rasped as he rocked his hips. "So hot, Ichi."

Ichigo could only moan in response as Grimmjow's voice sent a tingle of arousal through his body. He was burning up, his body quivering in anticipation as he waited for Grimmjow to move some more.

"Nghh, so hot," Grimmjow groaned.

Ichigo felt Grimmjow pull out slightly before thrusting back in with a little more force than before. He cried out in surprise and couldn't help but rock back to meet the other teen's hips. And then just like that, their pace gradually quickened, the rhythm clumsy but no less passionate.

Ichigo knew he wouldn't last long; his body was too sensitive to all these new sensations. He wrapped his legs around Grimmjow's waist and clung to him tightly. Then Grimmjow began to stroke him, bringing him closer and closer and closer…and then the tension in his gut exploded. He threw an arm over his mouth to muffle his own scream, aware that his friends were just a few rooms away.

It took Grimmjow another handful of deep, long thrusts before he finally stiffened and released inside Ichigo. Ichigo gasped in pain as Grimmjow's teeth clamped down on his shoulder as the teen rode out his orgasm, his hips rocking slowly until he stopped pulsing.

Ichigo's eyes began to slide shut; the lingering pleasure from his climax gradually lulling him to sleep even as Grimmjow was just rolling off of him. He felt his roommate settle down beside him and gather him into his arms. Grimmjow's heartbeat was still fast against his back, his body temperature still spiked from their vigorous activity.

A faint smile found its way to Ichigo's lips as he let sleep claim him, the last thing in his mind being Grimmjow's reaction in the morning.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	14. Chapter 14

Grimmjow returned to the real world sluggishly, his dream still fresh in his mind. It was such a perfect dream; weird, definitely, but unforgettable. His dreams were usually of him as a superhero, blasting buildings apart or doing some equally crazy shit like flying in space. Last night's, though, could not be any more different.

He dreamed of Ichigo. It began with him marveling at the baby soft skin beneath his palm. His left hand was placed over Ichigo's chest, feeling the boy's rapid heartbeat that mirrored his own. He was lying on his side, his right arm folded and tucked under the pillow. Ichigo was on his side, too, his face angled towards Grimmjow, the delicate dusting of pink on the boy's cheeks and nose bridge clearly visible.

In his dream, Grimmjow had moved his hand upwards and tangled his fingers in Ichigo's bed-tossed orange locks, then he had pulled Ichigo closer and tucked the boy's head under his chin. Dream-Ichigo had purred softly into his chest, his warm breath ticklish against his skin. Grimmjow remembered feeling glad that his roommate couldn't see his face, because he was blushing madly - he was  _cuddling_ , and to his embarrassment, he was loving it.

But then again, what did he have to lose? This was just a dream; he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

Then he woke up. Or at least he thought he did, because he was suddenly aware of his surroundings; the soft, silky sheets beneath his body, the fluffy pillow against his cheek. But the ticklish feeling of hair underneath his chin didn't go away, and there was something warm nestled against his body.

Feeling confused, Grimmjow cracked an eye open. He nearly gasped out loud when he was immediately greeted by a tuft of bright orange hair. His breath caught in his throat, shock and disbelief descending on him.

What the fuck was this?

He blinked furiously, refusing to believe that this was real. How could it be - Ichigo, his prude of a roommate, curled up by his side like they had spent the night together?

Then,  _bam_ , just like that, it came pouring back into his still-groggy mind. They  _had_ spent the night together. Not everything was clear; for example, he definitely didn't remember what led up to it. He only remembered staring at Ichigo while they played poker, he remembered having a crazy impulse to touch Ichigo; but  _how the hell had they ended up in bed_?

Grimmjow let out a long, quiet breath. Things were slowly coming back, some snippets clearer than others.

He couldn't believe that he had actually acted on his impulse! And they had gone all the way! Grimmjow fought the urge to scream. How could this be? Surely he was still asleep and this was all a dream. It had to be! In what universe would Ichigo actually sleep with him?

But the naked body next to him was  _right there_.

His heart rate spiked, his shock turning into panic. What was he supposed to do? This wasn't some one-night fling he was talking about. This was Ichigo, his roommate, his…friend. He couldn't just dust off his pants and walk away like he always did. But what the fuck did this mean? Was he supposed to be with Ichigo now? As in,  _be_  with him in a relationship?

He immediately remembered Ulquiorra. That idiot had a boyfriend, and Grimmjow had always scoffed at his relationship. Ulquiorra was always seeking for approval; first from his parents as they were growing up, then when he started seeing that robot, he got even worse. He always asked the guy for his opinion no matter what he did, reporting in with long-ass phone calls even though they saw each other every day. Relationships were stupid in Grimmjow's books - it was nothing but adding another person who could control your life.

Grimmjow's mind raced. Was he ready for something like this? But if he simply walked away, he would hurt Ichigo. He didn't want to hurt Ichigo.

His held his breath when that last thought crossed his mind. He didn't want to Ichigo to hurt, ever. Not by him, not by anyone. With a jolt, he suddenly realized that he had just answered Ichigo's questions.

But was he really ready? He needed more time to think. He needed to think. He needed to think. He needed to think! But,  _shit_ , Ichigo was right here, probably about to wake up soon.

Right on cue, Ichigo stirred. Grimmjow screamed a silent string of curses in his head and closed his eyes.

* * *

Ichigo knew Grimmjow was awake. The boy was still as a corpse, but Ichigo could tell that he was awake from the sound of his breathing. It didn't have the slow and even rhythm of someone truly asleep.

Ichigo felt a stab of disappointment. So this was how it was going to be. He should have known. It was his own decision, though, so he couldn't blame Grimmjow. He was just stupid to think that there could be a different outcome.

Holding his emotions in check, Ichigo let out a loud yawn and stretched. He sat up slowly, clutching the comforter to cover himself. He didn't understand why he was feeling so self conscious; Grimmjow had already seen everything.

Next to him, Grimmjow rolled over to his back and brought a hand up to rub his eyes.

Ichigo couldn't help but feel another pang of disappointment as he watched his roommate pretend to wake up. Well, two could play the game.

"Merry Christmas," he said with a small smile.

Grimmjow's eyes widened as he realized what today was. "Merry Christmas," he said sheepishly.

Ichigo forced another smile on his face and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He searched the floor for his clothes, then realized with a groan that most of them were still in the lounge outside. Fighting his self consciousness, he stood up and practically ran into the bathroom.

Once the door clicked closed, he leaned heavily on it, the smooth wooden surface cool on his bare back. He took in several deep breaths before making his way to the sink and turning the faucet on. He watched the water swirl around the sink and waited until the temperature was warm enough, then he plunged his hands into the stream of water and washed his face.

His hair was almost dripping wet by the time he was done splashing his face with near-scalding water. He shut off the water and remained bent over the sink, his hands gripping the side of the marble counter tightly. His skin started to cool down eventually, but his eyes and cheeks remained burning hot. He was just wondering why when he tasted salt on his tongue.

He looked up in surprise and stared at his own reflection in the mirror, horrified and shocked by his own reaction. He hadn't shed tears in  _years_. The thought of himself standing here alone and unwanted on Christmas day brought forth a choked sob as he came to a realization: he felt more for his roommate than he wanted to admit. It wasn't until he felt the brunt of  _this_  outcome that he realized just how much he was hoping to see the other.

He didn't even know when things changed. Was it from their stupid game, that pretend relationship? He knew that some lines had been blurred then, but he never knew he was this affected. He had told himself that he knew what he was doing last night, believing that he could deal with the consequences afterwards, because secretly, small part of him believed that Grimmjow cared about him. Why else would the boy rush into Aizen's den so recklessly? He had been so sure…

Ichigo chuckled, shaking his head at his own stupidity. Straightening up, he started to go through his morning routine, wrapping it up with a long, thorough shower. Remnants of last night's activities was still on his body, and he washed himself furiously, scrubbing until his skin became flushed and painful. Then, finally satisfied that he was clean, he grabbed a towel and dried himself, wiping his abdomen and between his legs extra vigorously for good measure.

He frowned when he suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to bring fresh clothes in with him. That meant he had to go out with nothing on but a towel. He didn't want to do that with Grimmjow in the room, but what choice did he have? He wrapped the towel around his waist, and then he stopped in front of the mirror to make sure that he looked presentable. His eyes were a little red, but it could be easily explained by saying that shampoo got into his eyes.

Staring at himself in the mirror, Ichigo sighed dejectedly when his eyes rested on the faint teeth mark on his shoulder; luckily it was on a spot that would be covered by a shirt. Damn, both his first kiss  _and_  his first time went to Grimmjow. He could blame the boy for the kiss, but he made that second decision himself. He wouldn't deny it; it hurt to be rejected like this, to be used and then cast aside as if nothing had happened. Yet, he couldn't find it in himself to be mad at Grimmjow. It had been his own choice after all, and he would have to face it himself.

He already knew what he was going to do. He wasn't going to drop their friendship like a frightened child. It may be awkward as hell at first, but he'd be damned if he let their friendship fall apart over this.

With that thought in mind, Ichio squared his shoulders and sucked in a deep breath. Then he yanked the door open and stepped out of the bathroom, back straight and head held high.

* * *

Ichigo had been in there for what felt like eternity. Grimmjow had calmed down now; he even knew what he was going to say when Ichigo came out. He was going to tell Ichigo that he would like to give them a try, but that he needed time to get used to it. It was a big leap for him. He was uncomfortable, uncertain, and scared shitless, but he would try.

He was surprised when Ichigo had simply bolted into the bathroom earlier without saying anything other than wishing him Merry Christmas. It was strange, but he supposed the boy was just shy. Ichigo had never really been comfortable with nudity all this while.

Grimmjow started jiggling his leg, fidgeting as his sense of foreboding climbed with every passing minute Ichigo was in the bathroom. Seriously, was the kid cleaning the fucking toilet or what? As if this wasn't already embarrassing enough for him; Grimmjow Jagaerjaques, sitting here waiting to talk about  _relationships,_  of all things. He would never live it down if anyone found out about this.

Then came the sound of the bathroom door being opened, and  _finally_ , Ichigo came into view. Grimmjow sprang up from the bed, his face flushed and heart beating wildly, anxious to get this speech over with yet dreading it at the same time. He took one look at his roommate's face, and his well-rehearsed words immediately died in his throat.

Ichigo smiled at him cheerily, his smile so wide and unnatural that Grimmjow felt a chill just looking at it. "I'm so excited about the show tonight! It's going to be so awesome," the boy gushed as he crouched down to rummage through his bag for a fresh change of clothes.

Grimmjow stared at the top of Ichigo's head, unsure of what was going on. He'd be the first one to admit that he was not good at reading people, but even he could tell that something was off.

"Ichi?" he asked tentatively.

Ichigo looked up at him and raised his eyebrows. "Hmm? I'm done with the bathroom, you can use it now," he said.

Grimmjow's heart sank. What the fuck? Surely Ichigo knew that he wasn't waiting to use the bathroom, there was a separate one that he could've used while Ichigo was in the other one. He searched the caramel-hued eyes, trying to gauge what was going on in Ichigo's head, but the boy just blinked innocently.

Was this how it feels to be on the receiving end of his cruel morning-after attitude? Grimmjow wondered as his self confidence came crashing down around him. Ichigo was acting like nothing had happened between them, like he hadn't just given Grimmjow his virginity last night. Of all people, Grimmjow never pegged Ichigo as someone capable of this. So last night was nothing, just a round of convenient sex, or worse, thank-you sex? Was Ichigo just repaying his debt because Grimmjow had saved him from Aizen?

Grimmjow lost count of how long he stood there in stunned silence, his mind reeling from the onslaught of hurt that Ichigo had just hurled in his face. This was karma; this was what he got for treating so many others like this in the past. And he had been so certain that Ichigo felt  _something_  for him. He was so stupid!

Grimmjow had never felt so humiliated in his life. Feeling angry at himself, he balled his hands into fists and stalked off into the other bathroom. It took all his self control not to slam the door behind him. This stung like nothing he had ever felt before. He had never been used and then brushed away like this, it was always he who did the brushing, the discarding. He had gotten so used to it that he had become cocky and full of himself, and now that attitude had come back and bitten him in the ass. Hard.

He supposed he couldn't blame Ichigo. He had been nothing but a nuisance to the boy the entire time they knew each other. He was always taunting him, teasing him just to see the other boy become upset. And then he had endangered his safety by not warning him about Aizen. There was absolutely  _nothing_  in him that Ichigo could possibly be attracted to.

Just what had he been thinking?

Horrified by the incorrect assumptions that he had made, Grimmjow hurriedly washed his face and brushed his teeth. This was beyond embarrassing. He was disappointed and sad that his affection wasn't returned the way he was hoping for, but it was numbed by the severe blow to his pride. Thank god he didn't launch into his stupid speech before he realized the truth. He would've made a fool of himself. He was lucky that Ichigo wasn't freaking out already. The boy was clearly giving him an easy way out of this mess by pretending that it never happened; he would take it.

Grimmjow went through his shower without feeling the sting from the ice-cold water and quickly wrapped himself up with a towel before heading out to grab his clothes. Ichigo was not in the bedroom; probably already outside hanging out with the others, who were no doubt awake by now.

For once, Grimmjow's assumption was correct. They were cheering on some stupid hotdog eating contest when he finally walked out of the bedroom.

"Merry Christmas!" Shinji yelled when Grimmjow joined them at the couch.

Grimmjow grinned and returned the greeting with as much enthusiasm that he could muster. If anyone noticed anything odd, they didn't comment. Instead, the topic changed to the special Christmas brunch buffet that they wanted to go to.

After a few minutes of excited chatter about what to do for the rest of the day, they headed out. The line was ridiculously long, but Shinji was adamant that they  _had_  to have a proper Christmas meal together, so they got in line and waited.

Grimmjow hung back behind the rest, his mood and appetite ruined by what happened in the morning. He caught Ichigo glancing at him a few times, but he wasn't ready for a normal conversation yet. He would get over it eventually, but not now. He wasn't good at controlling himself; he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of everyone.

He forced himself to sit through the meal. Again, he was horrified by how upset he was about the whole thing. He was acting like the very people he had always ridiculed. Weak. Pathetic.

When they were done, Shuuhei proposed that they pick up their show tickets and sightsee along the way. Stuffed with way too much food, everyone agreed. Everyone except Grimmjow, that is. Ichigo may be comfortable acting like everything was okay, but he just couldn't do it. He was going to explode if he tried, and then there won't be anything left of their friendship to salvage.

"I think I'm gonna bail on this one," he piped up just as they were going to walk towards the exit. "I feel bad for leaving Tessai alone for Christmas."

A stretch of surprised silence followed his unexpected announcement. He saw Ichigo stare at him with an unreadable expression on his face, which he hoped wasn't pity.

"Umm, okay," Shuuhei said finally. "Wish him Merry Christmas for us."

Grimmjow nodded. "You guys have a good time." Then he hastily turned around and left before he could give in to his urge to drag his roommate to a corner and scream at him.

* * *

**To be continued...**

 


	15. Chapter 15

Ichigo stared as Grimmjow's tall, muscular frame blended into the crowd. He was torn; a part of him wanted to run after the blue-haired teen, but another part of him was too afraid to hear the cold, harsh truth — that he had been a good fuck and nothing more.

That's all he was, wasn't he?

Yet, a little voice in the back of his mind kept whispering to him that there just might be something more. For one, Grimmjow had been uncharacteristically sombre throughout the day.

Had he misread Grimmjow after all?

For a second, Ichigo lost sight of the vibrant baby blue hair amongst the throngs of tourists. His stomach gave a sickening twist that had nothing to do with hunger. It was at that moment that he realized that he could not allow Grimmjow to simply walk away. Cold hard truth or not, as long as there's the tiniest sliver of doubt, he was going to find out for himself.

"Sorry, I have to go," Ichigo grabbed Shinji and said apologetically. "I'll explain later, I promise." Then he bolted after his roommate, leaving his friends stunned and confused.

Panting more from anxiety than exertion, Ichigo pushed his way through the crowd, his eyes searching for that distinct shade of blue that belonged only to one person. People frowned at him as he nudged them aside, but he ignored them all. The knot in his stomach kept tightening until he was sure he was going to be sick, and then he suddenly saw it.

"Grimmjow!"

Grimmjow stopped in his tracks when he heard his name, but didn't turn around. Ichigo wrestled his way past a group of Asian tourists in identical jackets and finally pulled up next to his roommate. He grabbed Grimmjow's sleeve and yanked.

"We need to talk," Ichigo said between gasps.

After a pause, Grimmjow turned to look at him. For the briefest moment, Ichigo thought he caught a hint of sorrow in those piercing blue eyes, but it was replaced by a hardened stare in a blink.

"What do you want," Grimmjow asked gruffly.

"Last night—" Ichigo began.

An obnoxiously loud guitar solo cut him off. Grimmjow frowned and fished out his cell phone from his back pocket while Ichigo looked on in exasperation.

"What do you want," Grimmjow repeated, except this time the question was directed to the person on the other end of the line.

Judging from the scowl on the teen's face, Ichigo surmised that whoever it was, wasn't on Grimmjow's top ten favorite persons list. Ichigo pursed his lips, annoyed that Grimmjow would actually answer a call at a time like this, yet he couldn't help but listen even though he couldn't hear the caller because of all the chatter and Christmas music around them.

"This is nothing I've not heard before," Grimmjow growled into the phone. "Don't you get it, I  _don't_  care—"

The caller appeared to have interrupted him, because Grimmjow rolled his eyes. Then, his entire body went rigid. "When?"

* * *

"She had a cardiac arrest this afternoon," Ulquiorra's smooth voice intoned, emotionless as always despite the severity of the news he was conveying. "Flatlined for almost two minutes."

Grimmjow's fingers tightened around his phone involuntarily.

Ulquiorra continued, "They are not hopeful."

"I don't…care," Grimmjow gritted out.

His older brother sighed softly. "It is up to you," Ulquiorra said before falling silent. Then, with an unexpected touch of sorrow, he finished with, "One last time, brother."

Grimmjow lowered his phone and stared at it dumbly.

His mother.

She had always been weak, falling sick whenever the weather changed. Grimmjow didn't have a lot of memories that didn't involve her lying in bed or sitting in a wheelchair in the garden. Her legs were fine, but she did not have the strength to walk or stand for long. She couldn't run after her children and play with them like his friends' mothers could. She just always sat there, like a paper doll that would disintegrate at the slightest gust of wind.

Her eyes were the worst — always sad and tired. At first Grimmjow thought it was because she was upset at her own health, but then her eyes would light up whenever Ulquiorra went near her. Only Ulquiorra could bring out that glow on her face, never her real son. All Grimmjow got from her eyes was disappointment.

And that was why he stopped caring. He didn't even say goodbye to her before he left for college.

"Grimmjow?" Ichigo touched his arm tentatively. "Are you alright? You look…pale, what happened?"

Grimmjow brought a hand to his own cheek, only to realize with a jolt that his fingers were ice-cold.

He didn't care.

"Grimmjow?" Ichigo sounded a little worried now.

He didn't care.

He didn't care.

"It's my mom, she's dying."

* * *

Ichigo felt a familiar twitch of pain in his chest as the dreaded words registered.

"What happened? Did you just find out on the phone?" he asked, gripping his roommate's arm just a little harder.

Grimmjow looked at Ichigo, blinking as though he was dazed. "That was my brother," he mumbled.

Ichigo never knew that Grimmjow had a brother. But then again, he knew next to nothing about his roommate's family, except that they were filthy rich. What worried him, though, was Grimmjow's reaction to the bad news. Instead of being upset or sad, the boy seemed confused.

Ichigo shook the taller teen. "What did he say?"

"Last time," Grimmjow muttered, more to himself than to Ichigo.

Ichigo pulled away and stared at his roommate, baffled. Not knowing what else to do, Ichigo dug out his own cellphone and dialed Tessai.

The older man answered the phone within seconds. "Meet me at the lobby, we're taking the next flight out," he said curtly before Ichigo had a chance to ask for an explanation, then the line went dead.

"We need to go, Tessai's waiting for us," Ichigo told his roommate, tugging at his sleeve urgently. The second he finished speaking, he realized his slip-up. This was Grimmjow's private matter, it had nothing to do with him.

Grimmjow frowned. "I don't care," he said.

"What do you mean you don't care?" Ichigo asked, incredulous.

"I meant I don't give a shit if she dies," Grimmjow said, still speaking in that slow, dreamy tone that sounded like he was talking to himself.

Ichigo's mouth fell open. "H-how...how can you not care if your mother...w-what?" he stammered, staring at his roommate as if the boy had sprouted a second head.

"She never gave a shit about  _me_ ," Grimmjow said bitterly. "I'm never good enough for her, so why should I care?"

Ichigo stared at his roommate, too stunned to think of a response. He could not imagine anyone being so cold as to say that about their own mother. Grimmjow glared back at him defiantly, his ice-blue eyes daring Ichigo to judge him. There was so much anger in there, yet the boy's pale face and vice-like grip on his cellphone told a different story.

"Don't lie to yourself," Ichigo said finally. "You're worried about her, and you know it!"

The only response he received was a low growl at the back of Grimmjow's throat — a warning, telling Ichigo that he was threading on unwelcome ground. But Grimmjow was never one who could hide his emotions well. The conflict within him showed clearly on his face, even if he refused to admit it. Ichigo didn't understand why Grimmjow couldn't get past something so simple; was it a matter of pride, a twisted, juvenile need to maintain the arrogant, bad-boy attitude that he loved to flaunt so much?

The thought infuriated Ichigo. "It won't kill you to show that you care about someone once in a while, damnit!" Ichigo yelled, losing his temper. He knew he shouldn't mix Grimmjow's mother's situation with his own frustration over what happened between the two of them, but he couldn't help it.

His outburst drew a shocked silence from the crowd around them. Sensing a possible fight between the two teenagers, people started to back away.

* * *

Grimmjow flinched as if Ichigo had slapped him in the face. That struck a little too close to home. Ichigo was right; despite his self-proclaimed detachment from his mother, he had felt the sudden urge to see her, especially when Ulquiorra made it clear that it could well be the last time he would ever see her alive.

How was that fair? Why was he so pathetic? After all she had done…or rather,  _not_ done…how could he still…?

"Caring for someone is not a sign of weakness," he heard Ichigo say. The boy's voice was a little softer now, as though he had sensed how his words had affected him.

It was easy for Ichigo to say; he had a family who showered him with affection. Grimmjow didn't grow up like that. Emotions weren't welcomed, emotions weren't shown. All his life, he had felt nothing but disgust and disappointment from his parents, even before he gave up trying to please them. Nothing he did was ever good enough. It was always Ulquiorra this, Ulquiorra that. So what if he showed up to see his mother now? She would probably just turn him away, and he would get nothing but humiliation and hurt from his effort.

"If it will make you feel any better, if you need any…support..." Grimmjow felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I…I can go with you."

Startled, Grimmjow looked up and found himself staring into his roommate's warm brown eyes. There he was again — the caring, nurturing Ichigo who had taken care of him while he recovered from his broken arm. Much as he hated to admit it, Ichigo's offer calmed him.

"Fuck," Grimmjow muttered, feeling his anger subside. He looked once more at ichigo's expectant face and sighed. "Where did Tessai ask us to meet him?"

* * *

Ichigo saw the fire in Grimmjow's eyes dim, and when the boy grudgingly asked for Tessai's location, he knew he had finally gotten through to his stubborn roommate. He was sure there was a lot of history behind Grimmjow's hostility towards his family, but he knew now wasn't the time to ask. The only thing that mattered now was to get to Grimmjow's mother before it was too late.

They hurriedly muscled their way through the holiday crowd and headed for the hotel lobby. Tessai was already waiting for them and didn't seem the least surprised to see Ichigo. They sped to the airport, not even bothering with their belongings that were still in the suite. Ichigo didn't know how Tessai did it, but the man managed to get them seats on the next red-eye flight out of Vegas to Grimmjow's hometown.

Grimmjow remained silent until they arrived at the departure gate. The place was packed full of travelers, the only available space for them to sit was a small corner by the wall. While Tessai went to the counter to deal with their seating details, Ichigo sat down on the carpeted floor and motioned for Grimmjow to take the spot next to him.

For a few minutes, they sat there quietly, each lost in their own thoughts. Ichigo couldn't help but think back of his own mother's death and the dark period of his life where he knew nothing but grief. He hoped that Grimmjow would not have to go through the same experience.

"Ichi," Grimmjow broke the silence.

Ichigo turned to meet his roommate's solemn gaze. "Yes?"

"About last night…" Grimmjow began.

With a jolt of surprise, Ichigo realized that he had forgotten about the reason he had run after his roommate in the first place. The unresolved issue between them seemed so irrelevant in comparison under the current circumstances that it had completely slipped his mind.

"Don't worry about it," he said quickly. "It's not important."

Grimmjow gave him a long, meaningful look. "It is," he said when he finally looked away.

Ichigo felt his chest swell even though he felt extremely selfish for feeling so. He wasn't sure what this meant for them exactly, but this wasn't the time to find out. "Not today," he insisted.

After a pause, Grimmjow nodded. Then, the flight crew announced the boarding of their flight, and they stood up to join Tessai at the gate.

* * *

When they arrived at their destination, they were greeted by a grim-looking chauffeur at the arrival hall. The man bowed when Grimmjow approached and looked curiously at Ichigo, but he didn't say anything. They were led to a black limousine that was parked in front of the entrance of the airport. Tessai took the front passenger seat while Grimmjow and Ichigo climbed into the back.

It was like something out of a movie. Ichigo had never been in such a luxurious car. But he supposed he shouldn't be surprised after seeing the way Grimmjow spent his money. Along the way, Ichigo peered through the heavily tinted window. The busy city streets soon gave way to narrower, winding roads that appeared to go uphill.

After what seemed like hours, the limousine finally pulled up in front of a pair of tall, imposing-looking gates that were painted in black and gold. After a brief stop, the gates swung open, and they proceeded forward. Ichigo's eyes went wide with awe as they followed a curved driveway that was paved with marble-looking slabs. In the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by the driveway, was a round basin-like fountain.

Ichigo didn't even realize that the car had stopped until the door was opened from the outside. Without a word, Grimmjow stepped out, and Ichigo hastily followed suit. The mansion that stood in front of him could only be described as breathtaking, the wide double-paneled front door flanked by thick Roman pillars.

"Welcome home, Master Jaegerjaques," a smooth, deep voice greeted them.

Ichigo turned to see a tall man with shoulder-length wavy brown hair approach them. His half-lidded eyes swept from Grimmjow to Ichigo; despite his easy-going, seemingly laid-back manner, Ichigo felt a chill when the man's eyes rested briefly on him. This was someone he wouldn't want to mess with.

"Starrk, for the last fucking time, don't call me that," Grimmjow grumbled with a scowl.

The man laughed. "Ah, Grimmjow, petulant as always...and who might this be?" he quirked an eyebrow at Ichigo.

"My roommate from college," Grimmjow replied. "Where is my mother?"

Starrk nodded towards the house. "She is resting in her chambers. The doctors are with her now, it will be a few hours before you're allowed to see her, I'm afraid."

Ichigo saw Grimmjow's jaw muscles flex. All this way, and he still had to wait; his frustration was understandable.

"In the meantime, I'll have Giriko prepare a room for Mr…" Starrk cocked his head and looked at Ichigo.

"Kurosaki," Ichigo stuck out his hand, which Starrk shook heartily. "Just call me Ichigo."

The man nodded. "Nice to meet you, Ichigo. I'm Starrk Coyote, head of security at the Jaegerjaques estate."

Ichigo gulped. Head of security? Just how large was Grimmjow's home? Grimmjow caught his awed expression and snorted.

"It's nothing but a glorified title," Grimmjow said, a little louder than Ichigo would've liked.

Starrk chuckled good-naturedly, unfazed by his young master's rudeness. Ichigo figured the man must be immune to it by now, assuming that Starrk had always been here when Grimmjow was growing up.

"Tch." Grimmjow scowled. Turning to Ichigo, he gestured towards the grand entrance of the mansion. "I'll show you around while we wait for the doctors."

Ichigo gave Starrk an apologetic smile, then he followed his roommate up the flight of stairs that led to the entrance. The front door was ajar, and when they stepped into the foyer, Ichigo realized that it was being held open by a middle-aged man who was dressed in a fancy white dress shirt and a dark waistcoat with a bow tie.

"Master Jaegerjaques," the man bowed his head and greeted Grimmjow, who rolled his eyes.

"Giriko, Ichigo needs a room," Grimmjow said curtly.

The butler-like man nodded solemnly. "It will be ready in half an hour, sir."

"Tch." Grimmjow's scowl deepened.

Ichigo was at a loss for words. On one hand, he was impressed by the grandeur of the Jaegerjaques estate, but he could also imagine how stifling this living environment must be. He couldn't imagine being waited on hand and foot and being called "Sir" and "Master". He wasn't fooled by Grimmjow's lack of etiquette; he might not show it, but it was clearly expected, judging from the frown of distaste that appeared briefly on Giriko's face.

They walked deeper into the circular foyer, which was sparsely but elegantly decorated with large oil paintings on the walls and a single chandelier that hung down from the high ceiling. Two wide, curved staircases led down from the upper floor. Everything about the place screamed luxury, and Ichigo felt completely out of place. He was painfully aware that his entire house back in Japan would probably fit in the foyer alone.

"Come on," Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo's sleeve and steered him towards one of the staircases.

Ichigo followed, his eyes taking in the portraits that lined the walls next to the staircases. Some of them featured older men with pale blue, grayish hair sporting sombre-looking expressions.

"Your relatives?" Ichigo whispered, unable to contain his curiosity.

Grimmjow grunted. "My great-great grandfather and my great-grandfather and a bunch of other dead people that I don't know."

Before Ichigo could reply, a voice piped up cooly from the top of the staircase.

"Is that how you introduce your friend to your family, dear brother?"

* * *

**To be continued…**


	16. Chapter 16

Ichigo's head snapped up in surprise at the voice that had interrupted them. A pale, slender young man stood at the very top of the stairs, an elegant hand resting on the wooden railing as he looked down at them. He looked a few years older than them, with layered black hair that reached just above his shoulders.

"Ulquiorra," Grimmjow grunted.

The young man cocked his head to the side and examined Ichigo and Grimmjow with his large green eyes. "I knew you'd come back," he said evenly.

"Tch."

Ichigo threw a sidelong glance at his roommate and was alarmed to see the hostility that was rolling off the teen in almost visible waves. This must be the older brother who had called Grimmjow. Ichigo was surprised; the two brothers looked  _nothing_  alike.

Ulquiorra ignored his brother's dagger-like glare and took it upon himself to introduce himself to Ichigo. He walked down the stairs towards them and offered his hand. "I'm Ulquiorra, Grimmjow's older brother."

"Nice to meet you," Ichigo said hastily, reaching out to shake Ulquiorra's hand. "I'm Ichigo."

"The pleasure is mine," Ulquiorra replied cooly with a slight bow of his head.

Ichigo blinked, the feeling of being out of place becoming stronger with each new person he met since he arrived. Ulquiorra carried himself with an air of aloofness that was different from Grimmjow's arrogance; Ichigo immediately decided that he would gladly take Grimmjow's cocky retorts over Ulquiorra's patronizing gaze.

"Welcome to our humble home, Ichigo," Ulquiorra went on politely.

"Oh, cut the crap," Grimmjow growled and grabbed Ichigo roughly by the elbow. "He's not here to sightsee around your damn house, so get the fuck out of our way."

Ulquiorra frowned at Grimmjow disapprovingly but did not reply. Ichigo bit back a hiss of discomfort as he was yanked bodily away from the older man, then he jogged after Grimmjow up the rest of the stairs to the upper floor. Grimmjow's steps seemed to have gained a spark after his encounter with his older brother, and he practically marched down the hallways that wound and turned like a maze. Ichigo followed him closely, knowing that he would get lost easily in this place, which would be extremely embarrassing.

When they came to the end of a wide hallway, Grimmjow finally stopped in front of a double-paneled door. He tested the doorknob, then gave it a brutal twist when he confirmed that it wasn't locked. Ichigo let out a gasp of surprise when the door swung open inwards.

The floor was covered with lush, cream-colored carpet, and up against the wall across from the door was a four-poster bed, complete with ivory-colored lace curtains that were tied to each column with silk ribbons. It was a grand sight, but extremely out of character if this was Grimmjow's bedroom.

"Stupid fuckers," Grimmjow swore. He strode up to his bed and hopped onto the mattress and began to tug on the drapes, trying to pull them off.

Ichigo ran up to him. "Calm down," he said, placing a hand soothingly on Grimmjow's back. "Relax, you're here to see your mom, don't stress out about other stuff."

"They  _always_  fuck up my place when I'm gone!" Grimmjow yelled, shrugging off Ichigo's hand. "It's like they're trying to erase my fucking existence! Goddamnit why did I even bother coming back!" He gave the column a savage kick as if it was all its fault, nearly losing his balance in the process.

Ichigo grabbed his roommate as the boy swayed and dropped down from the bed frame. Grimmjow was trembling with rage; Ichigo could see the strain in the corners of Grimmjow's eyes from his effort to keep from completely losing it. Feeling utterly helpless, Ichigo did the only thing he could think of. He slipped his arms around Grimmjow's waist from behind, just like how Grimmjow had done to him countless times before, and just held him, hoping that the contact would calm a little bit of the storm.

For a moment, Ichigo felt Grimmjow tense up, then the taller teen let out a long, shaky breath and sagged slightly against him.

"Fuck," Grimmjow muttered. He dropped his forehead against one of the columns on his bed frame and sighed.

Ichigo found himself wondering if it was a good sign that Grimmjow didn't push him away, then immediately berated himself for worrying about such a trivial thing during a time like this. Horrified, he let go of Grimmjow and took a step back.

"I'm sorry, Ichi, I…I need to be alone for a bit," Grimmjow mumbled under his breath.

"Okay." Ichigo nodded, despite the fact that his roommate had his back towards him.

"I'll take you back downstairs," Grimmjow pushed himself off of the column and turned around, but Ichigo stilled him with a firm hand on a shoulder.

"I'll find my way back, don't worry about me."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Ichigo finally staggered out of the mansion through a side door that he happened to stumble upon. When he said he could find his way back, he wasn't expecting that it would take him twenty fucking minutes. It felt every bit as embarrassing as he had expected.

He didn't know his bearings as he straightened up and looked around. All he knew that this wasn't the front of the mansion. The grounds were a deep green, simple but neatly-manicured. There was a single pathway made of rounded pebbles that led away from the house, and, feeling curious and having nothing to do, Ichigo followed it.

The narrow path became steeper the farther away it went, and eventually, Ichigo realized that it led to a pond. Or a lake, he didn't know which. It was huge and calm, and the mirror-like surface reflected the surrounding trees and flowers perfectly. Ichigo stepped off of the path and went towards the edge of the water.

It was only when he heard a clearing of a throat that he realized that he wasn't alone.

"Ah…I'm sorry!" he blurted when he found Ulquiorra sitting under a large willow tree behind him, the leaves drooping so close to the ground that the young man was almost completely concealed by them.

"Don't apologize," Ulquiorra said softly. He stood up and emerged from the shadows, and then Ichigo realized that Ulquiorra wasn't alone.

Another young man, who was a little taller than Ulquiorra, stepped out behind him. Like Ulquiorra, he had long raven locks, except they flowed past his shoulders. A few strands fell gracefully over his forehead, partially covering his grey eyes. Even so, Ichigo could feel the piercing gaze from the man, who gave him a silent but inquiring look.

Ichigo waited expectantly for an introduction, but received none. Silence filled the space, but he seemed to be the only one who was uncomfortable. The stranger gave Ulquiorra a chaste peck on the top of his head and walked away, presumably to give them some privacy. Ichigo panicked inside; he had absolutely nothing to say to Grimmjow's older sibling!

With a nod of his head, Ulquiorra led Ichigo to the edge of the lake. The black-haired male found a dry patch of rocks and sat down. After a brief moment of hesitation, Ichigo took a spot next to him.

"I'm sorry you have to witness all this," Ulquiorra broke the silence.

"Ah…" Ichigo blurted, annoyed at himself for being so awkward. Did he mean witnessing Ulquiorra and his friend seemingly having a secret date? Or did he mean witnessing the unpleasant exchange between the two brothers? Or did he mean being here when the family was having a medical emergency?

"Grimmjow and I…as you can probably tell, are not on the best of terms," Ulquiorra clarified for him.

Ichigo scratched the back of his head and struggled to find something appropriate to say. It was just not possible. Ulquiorra had a rather imposing aura about him even when he wasn't speaking. Ichigo had to say, even within such a short time, he could tell that Ulquiorra was completely different from his younger brother, and he couldn't help wondering how any sibling could be so different.

"I was adopted into the family when I was four," Ulquiorra explained quietly, as though he could hear Ichigo's thoughts.

"Oh," was all Ichigo could say. Once again he kicked himself to sounding like an idiot, but Ulquiorra seemed alright with it.

The older male stared into the lake and sighed softly. He looked sad. "Grimmjow was a mistake," he said after a long pause.

"Huh?" Ichigo gasped, absolutely shocked. He knew there was sibling rivalry between the two, but he wasn't expecting such an outright admission of hatred.

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow at Ichigo's outburst, and then his features softened in understanding. "Sorry, I'm not…good with words," Ulquiorra said apologetically. "That's probably one of the reasons why Grimmjow can't stand me. I'm just not good around people." He paused, frowning as he rephrased his words. "What I meant to say was, our parents conceived Grimmjow by accident. Please don't tell him, he still doesn't know."

Ichigo's mouth fell open at the clinical way the piece of private information was offered.  _Why on earth_  was Ulquiorra telling him this?

"Our father wanted an abortion as he thinks that our mother is too weak to bear a child, but mother insisted on keeping him," Ulquiorra continued, oblivious of Ichigo's discomfort. "Her health suffered as a result, and father never forgave Grimmjow for it, even though it's rather…"

"Unfair," Ichigo blurted in disbelief.

Ulquiorra paused for a moment before finally nodding. "Yes." He stopped once more, as if pondering how to proceed next. "My brother has always been…an overactive child," he went on. "Mother could not keep up with him."

"But she wanted to?" Ichigo couldn't help asking. This didn't sound like the mother whom Grimmjow described to not "give a shit" about him.

"Oh yes, of course." Ulquiorra quirked an eyebrow, which spoke volumes about his evaluation of Ichigo's intelligence. "There was just nothing they could share. She wanted him to play the piano, or the violin, or to sing, but he hated them all."

Ichigo sighed and rubbed his temples.

Ulquiorra looked pained — the only expression Ichigo had seen on his face thus far — as he continued. "I tried to help by setting an example, but I only ended up alienating him even further. I always…say the wrong things around him."

Ichigo stared at the young man next to him. It was so tragic, a vicious cycle that both siblings could not escape as long as the secret needed to remain so. But there was one thing that he didn't understand.

"Why are you telling me all this?" he wondered out loud.

Ulquiorra gave him another look that told Ichigo that he wasn't too bright in the older male's books. Ichigo resisted the urge to sock the man in the jaw. Ulquiorra wasn't lying when he said he wasn't good with people.

"Because I can see that you're special to him," Ulquiorra said. "This is the first time I've seen my brother let someone enter his personal space. I think you deserve to know the truth."

Ichigo laughed mirthlessly. If only he could be as confident as Ulquiorra in this regard. "I wouldn't say that," he mumbled. "I don't know if he…I don't know what he thinks of me."

Ulquiorra let out a soft snort that sounded completely off coming from him. "Believe me," he said, shaking his head. "We might not get along, but I know my brother. He is an open book."

Ichigo picked up a broken branch by his feet and began to poke the pebbled ground. "I dunno…" He casted a look at Ulquiorra's companion, who was standing under a tree, leaning his back against the trunk. The young man was looking in their direction, but he was far away enough that he wouldn't be able to hear their conversation.

"What about you?" Ulquiorra's question pulled Ichigo's attention back to him. "What do you feel for my brother?"

Ichigo immediately blushed.

Ulquiorra nodded. "I thought so," he said. "I—"

Ichigo never got to hear the rest of it, because right at that moment, frantic footsteps of someone skidding down the steep grassy slope that led down to the lake sounded behind them. They stood up and turned around instinctively, the urgency in the footsteps too clear to ignore. A few seconds later, Starrk burst into view, his wavy hair askew.

"Master Jaegerjaques, your mother is awake and is asking for you," the man panted in relief at the sight of his young master.

In a flash, Ulquiorra's quiet companion appeared next to Ulquiorra, and the four of them rushed back into the mansion. Ichigo felt out of place once more, but he couldn't help being affected by the worry rolling off of Starrk and Ulquiorra. Grimmjow must be anxious too, and Ichigo wanted to be there by his side.

Starrk led them up the staircase and into a wing that was across from Grimmjow's room, down a long hallway before finally stopping in front of a room. The smell of antiseptic and medicine immediately assaulted Ichigo's nostrils. This wasn't a bedroom as much as it was a hospital ward. Ichigo hung back as Ulquiorra went inside. Ulquiorra's friend stayed behind as well, his face stoic and expressionless.

Just as Ichigo was wondering where Grimmjow was, the blue-haired teenager appeared at the other end of the hallway. He sprinted towards them, face pale and anxious. He gave Ichigo a nod and ducked into the room after his brother. Ichigo was left alone with Ulquiorra's friend.

All was silent for a long time. Ichigo paced up and down the hallway, his anxiety climbing with every passing minute. The information that Ulquiorra just gave him weighed heavily in his mind. Despite Grimmjow's brave front, Ichigo knew the boy would be devastated if he found out the truth. Yet, was it fair to keep something so important from him? It didn't seem right no matter which way Ichigo looked at it.

Then, suddenly, the door burst open, and a gurney was pushed through the doors, surrounded by doctors and nurses in white coats. Ichigo recognized only a subset of the machines that were wheeled along the sides of the gurney, the beeping sounds loud and alarming. The doctors barked orders that were too fast for him to understand, but the panic in their voices was unmistakable. As they rushed past him, Ichigo caught a glimpse of a tuft of black hair on the pillow.

His heart jumped into his throat. This wasn't what he was expecting. Didn't Starrk say that she was awake? Wasn't that supposed to be a good sign?

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra stumbled out from the room seconds later; the older male's face blank and ghostly pale, while Grimmjow looked like he was torn between screaming in fury and crying.

"What happened?" Ichigo hurried behind his roommate.

"She had a seizure," Grimmjow choked out, his voice strained. "She looked okay, and then suddenly she just…they're taking her to the hospital. She should've been there in the first place!"

"Father thought—" Ulquiorra began.

"Father thought father thought, that's  _all_  you know!" Grimmjow bellowed, turning around to face his older brother. "Do you even have a brain of your own? You're nothing but a—"

"That's enough," Ulquiorra's companion interrupted firmly. Ichigo looked at him in surprise. The man's voice was low and unexpectedly commanding for his soft-spoken demeanor. "You are all upset, yelling will solve nothing."

Grimmjow glared at the stranger as if daring him to stand up against him once more. The young man looked back calmly.

Ichigo hastily held his roommate back. There was no point fighting over this now. "Grimmjow, we should head to the hospital as well, then," he said.

"Your father said to wait," Tessai stepped out from around the corner. "When the surgery is over, I am to take you there. But in the meantime, he doesn't want to cause a scene at the hospital."

"What the fuck!" Grimmjow rushed at his mentor, his teeth bared fiercely.

Ichigo grabbed his arms from behind. "Stop!" Grimmjow struggled to throw him off, but Ichigo gritted his teeth and held on.

Ulquiorra made a sound of protest as well, but he didn't move. His friend laced his fingers with his and caressed his other arm soothingly to calm him.

"Go back to your rooms, I'll call for you over the intercom when it's time. It will take a while," Tessai said apologetically. Clearly, he didn't agree with his master's decision, but it wasn't his place to say anything.

Ichigo watched helplessly as Grimmjow shook in anger. Ulquiorra left silently along with his companion.

"Let's go," Ichigo murmured, patting his roommate on the shoulder.

Grimmjow glared at him before stalking off. Ichigo followed. They took the same winding hallways to Grimmjow's room, where Grimmjow took out his frustrations on his door and bed frame, kicking and cursing until the pieces of furniture looked like they were on the verge of collapsing. Ichigo stood aside and let him vent.

When Grimmjow was finally spent, he sat down on the edge of his mattress and buried his face in his palms. Ichigo approached him tentatively and crouched down in front of him.

"Hey," Ichigo whispered. He daren't touch his distraught roommate, afraid that he would trigger another outburst.

Grimmjow grunted, the sound muffled behind his hands. After a moment, he finally lifted his head. His eyes were blood-shot but dry. "I  _hate_  that man," he growled.

Ichigo figured that Grimmjow was referring to his father. He stood up slowly and sat down next to Grimmjow.

"He isn't even by her bedside while she suffered," Grimmjow said heatedly. "It's like he's ashamed of her for being sick. How can anyone be so damn cold?"

Ichigo bit his tongue, remembering the equally-cold words that Grimmjow had said himself in Vegas. "Maybe…" Ichigo said carefully. "Maybe that's his way of…coping."

Grimmjow snorted in disgust. He fell silent after that, the only sounds in the room being his ragged breaths and Ichigo's even, softer ones. They remained that way for a long time. Eventually, Grimmjow calmed down enough to breathe normally again. Ichigo was glad, but he didn't turn to look at his roommate in case the boy didn't want him to see his breakdown, so he was startled when Grimmjow suddenly rested his forehead heavily on his shoulder.

"Thanks," Grimmjow murmured.

Ichigo hesitated for a few seconds before pressing his cheek against Grimmjow's hair. "Don't be stupid," he scolded softly.

Grimmjow chuckled. "After everything, you're still so nice to me."

Ichigo felt a twinge in his chest. He really didn't know what to think. What Ulquiorra said to him at the lake came to mind, and he wondered what Grimmjow was thinking. Outwardly, he just sighed and mumbled, "That's what friends are for."

Grimmjow went still. "Is that all I am to you?"

Ichigo cringed. Of all times…

"We're not going to talk about this now, remember?" he said.

"Ichi," Grimmjow said, pulling away. When Ichigo refused to look at him, he cupped the side of Ichigo's face and forced him to turn around. "I asked you a question."

Ichigo sighed and looked into his roommate's tired eyes. "You're upset," he pointed out.

"Yes, I am," Grimmjow admitted. "But I know what I'm doing. The other night, I—"

"Not now!" Ichigo protested, tugging his face free.

Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo's biceps and shook him angrily. "Yes, now!" he gritted out. "I waited for you to come out from the bathroom that morning, but when you did, you acted like nothing had happened. I didn't know what to do after that!"

Ichigo's eyes widened in astonishment. Grimmjow took advantage of his hesitation to push him down onto the mattress.

"But you pretended to be asleep…" Ichigo said, his voice faltering when he realized that he was pinned beneath Grimmjow.

"I freaked out, okay? I've never…I didn't know what to do," Grimmjow sighed. He pressed his forehead against Ichigo's and breathed deeply.

Ichigo blinked as relief washed over him. He was wrong after all; he wasn't just another fling. Once the sense of relief settled over him, his heart began to soar. His pulse sped up as Grimmjow's nose brushed against his. Grimmjow's breathing was becoming harsh again. The mattress dipped as he shifted over Ichigo and straddled the boy's thighs.

"Grimmjow…" Ichigo warned. This was all great and he couldn't be happier, but he didn't want to take advantage of Grimmjow's moment of vulnerability.

"Shut the fuck up," Grimmjow murmured.

Ichigo was only given a second to scowl before Grimmjow claimed his lips roughly.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	17. Chapter 17

Ichigo's surprised gasp was muffled as Grimmjow's lips closed over his mouth. Aggressive as it was, the kiss was brief. Grimmjow pulled away after that, his face flushed.

Still pinned down on the mattress, Ichigo gripped his roommate's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "Grimmjow, I don't think this is a—"

"Good time?" Grimmjow finished with a sigh. He sat back on his heels, his butt resting heavily on Ichigo's thighs.

Ichigo gave a wistful smile. "Yeah."

Grimmjow swung his legs over Ichigo and shifted to lie down next to him. For a moment, Ichigo thought that Grimmjow had calmed down, only to be proved wrong when the larger teen suddenly grabbed his waist and flipped him over so that he was now on top of Grimmjow instead.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo scolded, but was immediately silenced when Grimmjow grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head down.

This time, Grimmjow flicked out his tongue to coax Ichigo's lips apart. An involuntary moan slipped from Ichigo's throat as he relented. Large, warm hands held his hips in place as Grimmjow angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss, their tongues touching and teeth nipping until they had to part for air.

"I want you," Grimmjow purred.

Ichigo melted a little inside, although he'd be damned if he'd ever say that out loud. He closed his eyes to collect himself, then he opened them and peered intently into Grimmjow's pleading eyes...and nodded. Grimmjow's face brightened, and he propped himself up on his elbows and scooted backwards towards the head of the bed, pulling Ichigo with him as he went.

Ichigo went along even though he wasn't sure what Grimmjow had in mind. Grimmjow stacked a bunch of pillows against the headboard and sat back against them, then he pulled Ichigo onto his lap and held the slimmer teen's hips possessively. Ichigo leaned down and rested his forehead on Grimmjow's, the slight movement bumping their groins together. He blushed when he realized that they were both hard despite his feeble attempt at postponing the intimate moment.

"I like it when you go all red like that," Grimmjow said thickly, his hands slowly sliding down to cup Ichigo's ass.

Ichigo gave his roommate a light smack on the side of his head at the comment, but his admonishment was lost when Grimmjow suddenly rolled his hips. The friction, though dulled by the fabric of their jeans, was enough to send a tremor of pleasure through Ichigo's sensitive body, and he let out a breathy moan, his eyes sliding shut. Encouraged by his reaction, Grimmjow bucked his hips again.

"More," Ichigo breathed, surprising himself with the neediness in his tone.

Grimmjow groaned at the command. Fingers trembling from arousal, he started undoing the button on Ichigo's jeans, cursing under his breath when the tight garment refused to cooperate. Seconds later, Ichigo's fingers joined in, and soon their zippers were out of the way. With a strong tug, Ichigo's jeans and boxers were pulled down just enough set his throbbing erection free. Breathing heavily, Grimmjow started on his own jeans, squirming under Ichigo's weight as he slid his pants over his hips.

Ichigo gulped at the impressive sight. Even though he had seen Grimmjow naked more times than he could count, and had even slept with him, this was the first time he'd ever seen him in this state up close.

"Like what you see?" Grimmjow teased, tilting Ichigo's chin up to brush their lips together.

Too awed to speak properly, Ichigo simply nodded. Cheeks heating up like torches, he reached between them and gave Grimmjow a tentative stroke.

"Nghh..." Grimmjow clenched his eyes shut and moaned appreciatively into Ichigo's mouth.

Ichigo couldn't help but move his hips at the sound. Feeling bolder, he wrapped his fingers around Grimmjow and squeezed lightly before slowly sliding his fist up and down, twisting and tugging as Grimmjow's breath became ragged.

When Ichigo picked up the pace, Grimmjow grabbed his wrist and stopped him. Ichigo looked up questioningly at his roommate, whose eyes were half closed with pleasure.

"Together," Grimmjow said, then he closed his hand over both of them.

Ichigo jerked in Grimmjow's lap at the touch. Grimmjow's skin was burning hot and felt so good pressed tightly against his own that he thought he would spill himself right then and there. Sensing Ichigo's climbing urgency, Grimmjow gave Ichigo's lower lip a rough nip and sped up.

"Mmm..." Grimmjow hummed, his free hand gripping Ichigo's hip hard enough to bruise.

The discomfort didn't even register in Ichigo's mind, his need for release dominating his senses. He thrust roughly into Grimmjow's fist, moaning as Grimmjow did the same.

The bed creaked as their movements grew frantic, Grimmjow's voice deep and hoarse as his moans escalated to match the pace he had set for them. Ichigo had never thought that he would be aroused by sound alone, but damn, Grimmjow had a fucking sexy bed voice.

"I'm close," Grimmjow rasped, his head thrown back against the headboard as Ichigo hovered over him.

"Me...too...nghhh..." Ichigo's voice came out as a whimper as he felt the tension in his belly tighten. He clutched the headboard on either sides of Grimmjow's head in a death grip as he tried desperately not to press himself too hard against his roommate. It was difficult, though; Grimmjow's fist was so hot, so tight, and it felt so good to feel Grimmjow's arousal rubbing against his own...

With a hard twist of his wrist, Grimmjow gave Ichigo that last push, and Ichigo cried out as his pleasure peaked, his seed spilling over Grimmjow's fist. Grimmjow pumped once, twice more, and then he followed suit with a broken cry of Ichigo's name. Then they sagged into the pillows, both oblivious to the mess between their bodies.

"Sh...shit," Ichigo panted into Grimmjow's hair, trying to force his heart to slow down before he exploded.

"Mine," Grimmjow murmured as he nuzzled Ichigo's jaw, his breath raising goosebumps on Ichigo's skin.

Ichigo let out a shaky chuckle and gave Grimmjow's head a half-hearted swat. "Dumbass."

* * *

Grimmjow turned off the faucet and took a brief look at his own reflection in the mirror. His hair was messier than usual, so he quickly ran a his still-damp fingers through it to smooth it back some. They were going downstairs to grab dinner, the last thing he wanted was people asking him why he looked so disheveled.

Just outside the bathroom, Ichigo was adjusting his clothes in front of the full length mirror by the dresser. The boy's cheeks were still a delicate pink, and Grimmjow couldn't resist stealing a peck as he slipped his arms around Ichigo's waist from behind. He was still wrapping his head around the idea that they were together now — an item, a couple, boyfriends, or whatever else society liked to label it. They didn't talk about it explicitly, but after what they had shared, there was no doubt how they felt for each other. It was a new experience to him, and he had to admit, it felt easier than he had expected.

"We look good," he commented with a grin as he rested his chin on Ichigo's shoulder.

"Fucking narcissist." Ichigo rolled his eyes and rammed his elbow into Grimmjow's gut.

Grimmjow let out a dramatic yelp of pain —  _damn_  did he really have to hit so hard? — then laughed when he saw Ichigo turn red in the face. Ichigo was so easy to rile up, even now.

"Come on, we should grab dinner," Grimmjow said, steering Ichigo towards the door.

They took a different route down to the kitchen, via another flight of stairs that was tucked in a corner of that wing. Grimmjow heard Ichigo gasp when they stepped into the wide space. This was their smaller one, where they go to when they needed a quick meal. There was another one of almost commercial grade, which was used when his parents hosted parties.

Their long-time chef, a middle-aged, soft-spoken woman who had been with the family for as long as Grimmjow could remember, was tinkering around the counters, laying out plates and cups as she stirred the contents of a pot.

"Grimmjow, welcome home," she greeted warmly.

"Hi, Aunt Retsu." Grimmjow gave her genuine smile. Unohana Retsu was one of the few employees who were nice to him; Starrk and Tessai being the only other ones. She was almost like a nanny to him as he was growing up, making sure that he was always well fed, especially when he had fights with his father. She was also the only one who never called him by the ridiculous title. She never did, not even with Grimmjow's father.

Unohana gave Ichigo a gentle pat on the head as he was introduced, and Grimmjow saw the boy relax visibly. They hopped onto the stools lined up next to the kitchen island and waited eagerly for food. The woman filled two plates with beef stew and placed them in front of the boys, then went about to make her signature hot chocolate, which Grimmjow swore was the best hot chocolate in the world. Unohana giggled softly when Grimmjow proudly told Ichigo about that.

"I'm sure it's fantastic if it's even a fraction as good as this stew," Ichigo said around a mouthful of food, his manners temporarily forgotten.

"Aww, you're such a darling." Unohana gave Grimmjow a wink as she said that, then her eyes darted to the entrance of the kitchen. "Ah, Ulquiorra, Byakuya."

Grimmjow groaned inwardly as his brother returned the greeting. He was hoping that he could avoid the idiot as much as possible during his time here, but it looked like he had shit timing. Ulquiorra's uptight-looking boyfriend sat down next to Grimmjow at the counter, forming a barrier between the two siblings.

The atmosphere in the kitchen became awkward as dinner went on, soothed only by Unohana's gentle presence. The motherly chef was just serving coffee when Tessai came into the kitchen.

"I have good news and bad news," the man announced.

As all eyes turned to him, Tessai went on to tell them that Grimmjow's mother's surgery was a success, but that she would need another, more major, surgery next week before the doctors were comfortable enough to say that she was completely out of the woods.

"You boys can visit her tomorrow morning, meet me at the foyer at nine o'clock and I'll drive you all there," Tessai finished.

Grimmjow let out a silent breath of relief and smiled when he caught Ichigo sighing out loud as well. He was glad that Ichigo had tagged along; he didn't think he could be this calm if Ichigo wasn't here.

The mood in the kitchen lightened after Tessai's news. The man joined them for the meal, and Unohana fussed over him like a mother hen. Grimmjow smirked as Tessai blushed under the attention. He had always known that his mentor had a soft spot for the gentle woman. Why the older man had never acted on his feelings was a bit of a mystery to Grimmjow; as far as he knew, Unohana was single as well, and it was pretty obvious that she tended to pay more attention to Tessai than anyone else. He made a mental note to give the older man a kick in the ass later as encouragement.

After a little while, Ulquiorra stood up. "Thank you for the wonderful dinner," he said to Unohana with a slight bow of his head. Then he turned to Grimmjow and Ichigo and bid them goodnight.

Grimmjow ignored him as usual and was surprised when Ichigo replied with a cheery "Good night, Ulquiorra."

Once his older brother and his companion were out of sight, Grimmjow raised an eyebrow and asked, "Since when did you guys become buddies?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "I don't have to be 'buddies' to be polite, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow huffed. He saw Ichigo purse his lips and had a feeling that he was going to get a lecture about that later. "I think we should rest too," he said, pushing his empty plate away.

"Yeah, thanks for the food," Ichigo agreed, sliding off the stool.

Unohana pulled them both into a quick hug before sending them off with another mug of hot chocolate each. Grimmjow sipped on his as they walked back upstairs.

"I like her," Ichigo said, carrying his mug like it was a million-dollar piece of glass.

"She's cool," Grimmjow replied. That was the closest he was going to get to admitting aloud that he felt the same way about the chef, and Ichigo seemed to know it, because he immediately snorted.

They walked down another hallway, and Grimmjow remembered belatedly that this route would take them past his brother's room. The feeling of resentment for Ulquiorra filled his chest as he walked past the door. Ichigo was walking next to him, oblivious to his dark thoughts, when the boy suddenly froze in his tracks.

"Wha—?" Grimmjow's question was cut off when Ichigo held a finger over his lips. His curiosity was further stoked when the boy's face became pink.

Then he heard it: a soft, breathless sound that could only be a moan of passion. It was then he realized that one side of Ulquiorra's double-paneled bedroom doors was slightly ajar. They couldn't see anything, but the side that was shut suddenly rattled as though something had slammed into it. The movement was followed immediately by another moan, which was louder and needier than the first one. Ulquiorra's voice was unmistakable.

Grimmjow nearly laughed out loud at the look of embarrassment on Ichigo's face. Ichigo scowled when he finally noticed Grimmjow's teasing expression, and he quickly grabbed Grimmjow's hand and pulled him away from the scandalous scene.

The minute they were inside his bedroom, Grimmjow snatched the mug of hot chocolate from Ichigo's hand and placed it, along with his own, on his desk. Then he pushed Ichigo against the bedroom door, not unlike what Ulquiorra and Byakuya were no doubt doing.

"Pervert," Ichigo grumbled. But even as the word left his mouth, he lifted his hands and held Grimmjow's face and pulled him close for a kiss.

Grimmjow was so surprised that it took him two seconds to respond. Ichigo had never initiated a kiss before. Somehow that made it even hotter, and Grimmjow returned the gesture tenfold, sucking and nibbling on Ichigo's lips with a passion that drew a moan from the slimmer teen.

The mood was dampened when Ichigo pulled away and said, "Look, I know you and Ulquiorra have your differences..."

Grimmjow felt his budding arousal wilt at the mention of his brother in the middle of such an intimate moment. "You have no idea," he warned.

"Please—"

"I don't want to talk about it, Ichi," Grimmjow cut him off, annoyance beginning to creep into his voice. "You didn't grow up with him, you don't know..."

Ichigo's features softened, and he closed their distance to give Grimmjow a peck on the lips. "Okay, not today," he murmured.

Grimmjow recognized a loophole when he heard one, but the feeling of Ichigo's body against his was soothing enough for him to push the unpleasant thought away for now.

Ichigo was soon writhing against the door, his fingers scraping Grimmjow's skin under his t-shirt. With a soft grunt, Grimmjow lifted him up and led them to the bed. He threw Ichigo onto his back, grinning when the boy let out a soft "oof" as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Before Ichigo could recover, Grimmjow crawled over him and crushed their lips together. He blindly sought out Ichigo's fingers, and when he found them, he grasped the boy's hands and pinned them against the mattress above Ichigo's head.

Ichigo squirmed beneath him and fought him for dominance in their kiss. Unlike him, Ichigo seemed to prefer a slower, gentler pace. Whenever Grimmjow tried to deepen the kiss, Ichigo would give him a warning nip on his lower lip. After enough warnings, Grimmjow finally relented and let Ichigo lead. Heat began to build in his pants as Ichigo took his sweet time licking and sucking; Grimmjow had to admit, this pace was just as arousing, if not more.

But he could only take so much teasing. Grimmjow broke away and began to move his tongue lower, leaving a wet trail of kisses down Ichigo's jaw and neck. Feeling bad that he was drunk during their first time together, he was determined to redeem himself tonight.

Grimmjow let go of Ichigo's hands and slipped a hand under Ichigo's t-shirt. He watched the boy's expression; Ichigo's eyes were closed, his breaths fast and shallow. Encouraged by the signs, Grimmjow pulled Ichigo's t-shirt upwards, and Ichigo sat up to let it go over his head. Cheeks flushed, Ichigo opened his eyes and helped Grimmjow out of his sweater, then they worked on each other's jeans.

After retrieving a bottle of lube from his dresser, Grimmjow maneuvered them to the middle of the bed and pushed his new boyfriend into the mattress again. Mindful of Ichigo's preference to go slow, Grimmjow forced himself to reel in his eagerness. He had never worried about his performance in bed in the past, mostly because he was only concerned with getting his release during those encounters. Now, for once, he felt worried.

Ichigo's skin was as smooth as he remembered from the snippets of memory he had of that night. The boy was lean and built like a swimmer, his torso long and slender. Supporting his own weight on one elbow, Grimmjow angled his body so that he could sweep his palms along Ichigo's body. He ran his hand over a prominent hip bone and lingered there to rub little circles over it. He felt Ichigo shiver at the touch.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," Grimmjow said, crawling back up to brush his nose against Ichigo's cheek.

Ichigo's already-pink cheeks became redder. Grimmjow leaned down so that Ichigo could whisper into his ear. When he heard the request, his face broke into a grin.

Slowly, crawling backwards with the grace of a feline, Grimmjow made his way down until he was hovering over Ichigo's stomach. He bent down and blew on the skin there; another piece that he remembered from that night being that Ichigo was extremely ticklish there. Sure enough, Ichigo immediately yelped and — to his surprise —  _kneed_  him right in the chest.

"Oops," Ichigo propped himself up on his elbows and said sheepishly.

Grimmjow flashed him a brief scowl before ducking down suddenly to lick the spot that he just blew on, applying enough pressure so that it won't be ticklish. He heard a hiss from Ichigo, then he moved lower, dragging his tongue flat across Ichigo's skin until he came to the tuft of dark orange hair between Ichigo's legs. Ichigo's thigh muscles flexed involuntarily as Grimmjow nudged them apart to make space for himself.

"Trust me," Grimmjow purred, lifting his head to catch Ichigo's wide, curious eyes. The boy swallowed visibly and nodded.

Grimmjow wrapped his fingers around Ichigo and stroked the rigid length, slow enough to drag out the pleasure but hard enough to provide a good amount of friction. Ichigo let out a loud, shaky groan and clutched the sheets tightly in his fists. He was still propped up on his elbows, and Grimmjow could feel the boy's gaze on him, soaking up the sight of Grimmjow taking him into his mouth.

Ichigo's skin was burning hot against Grimmjow's tongue, and he felt the boy jerk his hips when he hollowed his cheeks and began to suck. He had a feeling Ichigo wasn't going to last long, judging from his sensitivity and this being a whole new experience for him and all. But Grimmjow tried his best to at least make it as good as he could, moving excruciatingly slow and taking Ichigo into his throat. A few more passes was all that was needed to push Ichigo over the brink, and the boy choked out Grimmjow's name as he spilled himself into Grimmjow's mouth.

Grimmjow crawled back up when he was done. "How was it?" he asked, licking his lips.

"You ate it," Ichigo blurted out dumbly and looked at Grimmjow as if he was crazy to do such a thing.

Grimmjow bit his tongue even though he could think of so many things to tease Ichigo with, knowing that if he did, Ichigo would probably hide under the covers in embarrassment for the rest of the night. Instead, he grasped the boy's hand and pulled him behind him as he scooted towards the headboard just like he had earlier that day.

Ichigo's mouth fell open in understanding when he was pulled into Grimmjow's lap. "I don't know…" he began, looking uncertain.

"I'll guide you, don't worry." Grimmjow slipped his arms around Ichigo's butt and raised the boy onto his knees, then he slicked his fingers with the lube that he had thrown onto the bed earlier.

He prepared Ichigo gently, sliding his fingers in and out and massaging the sensitive area with the utmost care as he watched the boy's face for signs of discomfort. Ichigo bit his lip, but kept his gaze locked on Grimmjow's the entire time, his cheeks getting rosier as he became hard again. When Grimmjow deemed him ready, he steered the boy over his aching, leaking arousal and asked Ichigo to lower himself onto it.

Progress was slow at first; Ichigo doing his best to take Grimmjow in inch by inch without hurting himself. Finally, when he was fully seated, he moved tentatively, letting Grimmjow slide out a little before sitting down again. Grimmjow held Ichigo's hips and brought his own knees up to support some of Ichigo's weight. Ichigo was so hot and tight that it was all he could do not to thrust up to drive himself deeper into the slimmer teen's body.

"You feel so good, babe," he slurred, his grip tightening on Ichigo's hips as he clenched his jaw in an effort to control himself. He was so used to going fast and hard that this pace was killing him. It was like being teased continuously, especially since he had been holding off his release since he went down on Ichigo.

Sensing the tension in Grimmjow's muscles, Ichigo held on to Grimmjow's shoulders and sped up. Grimmjow moaned appreciatively and joined in, raising his hips slightly to meet Ichigo's hips. Their bodies were soon covered in a thin layer of sweat, moans and murmurs of encouragement punctuating every thrust.

"Nghh…yeah, just like that…" Grimmjow purred into Ichigo's ear as the boy bucked in his lap, soft cries spilling from his lips as Grimmjow's voice spurred him on even more.

Realizing that he had been neglecting Ichigo, Grimmjow reached between them in an attempt to stroke Ichigo's length in time with the movements of their hips, but it was simply impossible with the rate they were racing towards completion. Ichigo reached there first, still having the presence of mind to muffle his own cries with the back of his hand. Grimmjow managed another handful of deep, powerful strokes before he released inside Ichigo's throbbing passage. He buried his face into Ichigo's neck, his gasps ragged and hoarse as he rode out his climax with Ichigo's arms wrapped around him tightly.

As he breathed in Ichigo's scent, Grimmjow's chest was suddenly seized by a sweet, warm ache, and before he could stop himself, tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes. He felt Ichigo stiffen slightly, but the boy remained silent. Grimmjow gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, unsure if the overwhelming rush of emotions was from the moment of intimacy or from the relief of knowing that his mother's surgery was successful. Whatever it was, he was grateful for Ichigo's tact.

After he calmed down, Grimmjow finally pulled away and gave Ichigo a lopsided grin. "Shall we clean up?"

"Hell yeah," Ichigo said, returning the smile.

Dragging their tired bodies out of bed, they half walked, half stumbled into the adjoining bathroom. While Grimmjow filled the large, oval-shaped bathtub, Ichigo rummaged through the cabinet in search of shower gels and shampoos.

The water felt soothing against Grimmjow's skin as he slid into the bathtub. Ichigo joined him a few seconds later, and Grimmjow pulled him close, turning him around until Ichigo's back was resting against his chest. The silence was comfortable as they washed each other, punctuated only with the occasional contented sigh.

It was so comfortable in the tub that neither felt like moving even after they were clean, so they stayed; Ichigo leaning back against Grimmjow with the top of his head tucked under the taller teen's chin.

* * *

Ichigo woke up suddenly from a weird dream where he was a fish, only to find that he  _was_  indeed in the water. He flailed about in a panic, his mind too groggy from sleep to remember where he was. Then he heard a deep chuckle behind him.

"Grimmjow! It's not funny!" Ichigo exclaimed as realization dawned.

Grimmjow's laughter only doubled. With a huff of exasperation, Ichigo brought up his hands and stared at his wrinkled finger tips in horror. "Why didn't you wake me up? Now we've turned into prunes!"

"Aww, but you looked so cute when you were asleep," Grimmjow said with a big grin.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, not sure if Grimmjow was making fun of him or was actually giving him a compliment. His eyes narrowed further when he decided that being called  _cute_ wasn't exactly his idea of a compliment anyway.

"Idiot," he snapped irritably.

Grimmjow chuckled again and pushed him away so that they could both climb out from the water. Grabbing a towel each, they dried themselves; Ichigo grumbling under his breath as he did so. Still, as Grimmjow dried his hair — which left him completely naked from neck down — Ichigo couldn't help smiling as he took in the tall, muscular figure of his…boyfriend. The term felt strange in his mind, but he liked it.

They had a small argument over the need to blow-dry their hair, but it ended up as a childish fight to see who could blast the most hot air in the other's face. By the time they finally made their way to the bed, Ichigo was so tired that he felt boneless the moment his head hit the pillow.

"C'mere," Grimmjow mumbled, reaching out to gather Ichigo into his arms.

With a smile, Ichigo let himself melt into the warmth as Grimmjow pulled the duvet over both of them.

* * *

**To be continued…**

 


	18. Chapter 18

Ichigo was shoved rudely back into consciousness by a series of obnoxiously loud banging on the bedroom door. Eyes blurry from sleep, he almost crashed face-down onto the carpet in his hurry to get to the door. Without thinking, he yanked it open.

Starrk had his hand raised in mid-air, looking like he was just about to knock again. He took one look at Ichigo and promptly began to laugh.

"Good…ahem…morning," Starrk struggled to say between chuckles.

Ichigo was just wondering what was wrong with the man when Starrk's eyes strayed downwards for a split second. Ichigo followed his gaze automatically and immediately realized, much to his horror, that he had rolled out of bed in his birthday suit.

"Ahhh!"

The door was slammed shut in Starrk's face as Ichigo shrieked, his mind too overwhelmed with embarrassment to supply him with an alternate reaction.

"What? What happened!" Grimmjow sat up in the bed, yelling in a panicky voice, his blue hair wild and sticking up in a thousand directions.

Ichigo replied with another miserable shriek, still too traumatized to speak properly. He was absolutely mortified; he had  _never_  slept in the nude before, and it had been so ingrained that it just didn't occur to him to check before opening the door. And now Starrk had seen him in all his glory.

It was so damn embarrassing!

Grimmjow threw the duvet off and got out of bed, his brows furrowed with worry. "What's wrong, Ichi?"

Starrk's voice was muffled from the other side of the door. "I just want to let you guys know that it's almost nine! Tessai's supposed to drive you guys to the hospital at nine, remember?"

Ichigo bumped his forehead against the door three times as if that would make his embarrassment go away. It didn't work.

"Thanks, Starrk," he mumbled, hoping that it was loud enough for the man to hear. "And uhh…sorry."

Starrk let out a bark of laughter. "Don't worry, kid," he said, his voice a little too loud for Ichigo's liking, given the topic at hand. "You ain't got anything I don't."

This brought a pang of déjà vu; Ichigo recalled that one time many months ago, Grimmjow had said something along those lines to him. Seriously…what's with this family and their comfort with nudity? As he continued to stew in his shame, Ichigo heard Starrk's footsteps recede, and then Grimmjow was suddenly by his side.

"What's wrong, babe?" Grimmjow hooked an arm around Ichigo's shoulders and pulled him flush against his own body. Then he finally connected the dots, his eyebrows rising towards his hairline as he looked from Ichigo's naked form to the door. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as he let out a howl of laughter.

Ichigo peeled Grimmjow's arm away and shot him a dirty look. "Shut up," he glowered. "Tessai's waiting for us."

Grimmjow sobered up at once, his face falling as he was no doubt seized by guilt for letting that slip his mind.

Ichigo's eyes softened when he caught the change of expression on Grimmjow's face, and he reached up to cup the boy's face with both hands. "It's okay, let's go get ready now," he said, tilting his chin up to give the taller teen a quick peck on the lips.

When a faint smile finally spread across Grimmjow's face, Ichigo let go of the boy's face and led him to the bathroom.

* * *

The hospital was everything Grimmjow hated — the smells, the sights, even the fucking  _air_  felt wrong in there. The scent of antiseptic was staggering; it attacked his nostrils and seemed to seep into every pore on his body, leaving a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

Ulquiorra and his squeeze walked ahead of Grimmjow and Ichigo, their gaits stiff and solemn. Grimmjow had to say that he could not have imagined anyone better suited for his brother; this Byakuya fellow looked just as serious and depressing, if not more. If not for the pink dress shirt on Byakuya, the two of them would look like they were on their way to a funeral.

Grimmjow could not be more thankful for Ichigo's presence. He had felt like an asshole when he realized how inappropriate his light-hearted mood had been in the morning, but Ichigo somehow managed to make him feel better. All the kid did was a few gentle kisses and brief squeeze around his middle. It was almost scary.

When they arrived in front of his mother's private hospital suite, Tessai stopped and nodded towards the door. Grimmjow stepped forward, only to bump into his older brother's shoulder. Ulquiorra looked at him, his large turquoise eyes unreadable. Grimmjow couldn't help but bristle under that gaze. He  _hated_  Ulquiorra's eyes with a passion, especially the way they always seem to study him.

After a few seconds of staring, Ulquirora took a step back and gestured for Grimmjow to go first, but by then Grimmjow's already rotten mood had soured even more, and he turned his back to his older brother and walked away. He didn't need Ulquirora's  _pity_ , or his holier-than-thou attitude.

He heard the sound of the heavy doors being pushed open and knew that Ulquiorra had gone in. Byakuya remained outside and took a seat in one of the plush visitor seats in the small sitting area down the hallway.

"Hey."

Grimmjow felt a soothing hand on his forearm and smelled the light fruity scent of Ichigo's shampoo by his side. He turned around reluctantly, fully expecting Ichigo to admonish him for his childish behavior, but Ichigo only brought their foreheads together in a show of support. Feeling grateful, Grimmjow nuzzled Ichigo's cheek briefly.

If Tessai and Byakuya saw anything, they didn't comment, but Grimmjow thought he saw a fleeting smile on his mentor's face.

Ulquiorra was only in there for a handful of minutes. When he stepped out from the room, he nodded in Grimmjow's direction without looking at him in the eye, then he walked towards Byakuya. Grimmjow swallowed, feeling suddenly nervous, and headed for the door. Two steps later, he realized that Ichigo wasn't behind him.

"Ichi." Grimmjow turned around and reached out for Ichigo, who simply looked at him in surprise.

"Grimm, I—"

Ignoring the boy's stuttering protest, Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo's hand and dragged him into the room.

As soon as the doors clicked closed, they were plunged into semi-darkness. The room was silent safe for the soft, constant beeping from the machines surrounding his mother's bed. Tubes ran from various contraptions to the woman's wrists, her small delicate face mostly covered by an oxygen mask. A doctor stood in front of one of the machines, scribbling furiously on a notepad.

Grimmjow approached the bed slowly. He had seen his mother ill so often as he was growing up, but this was the first time he truly felt that she was fragile. Perhaps he just never really noticed her, but she looked so tiny and frail lying prone in the middle of the bed. Ichigo tightened his grip on Grimmjow's hand, their fingers laced tightly.

"Mom," Grimmjow whispered when he was finally standing next to her. Her dark eyelashes stood out starkly against her pale, almost paper-white cheeks. Her dark hair was pushed back from her face, matted to her head by the straps that secured the oxygen mask over her nose and mouth.

For a moment, he thought she was still unconscious, but then her eyes fluttered open weakly. She looked disoriented for a few seconds, then her eyes lit up with recognition as Grimmjow stepped closer to the bed. Her lips parted behind the mask, but all she managed were weak gasps. After a few attempts, she let out a sigh in resignation as she finally accepted the fact that she was too weak to speak to her son, and settled for a gentle smile instead.

"Hi," Grimmjow said. He felt awkward and uncomfortable, but something in his mother's eyes made him stay. At a loss for what else to say, he pulled Ichigo close and said to his mother, "Mom, this is my boyfriend, Ichigo."

Ichigo waved almost shyly. Grimmjow saw his mother's eyes widen slightly before she smiled a little brighter and raised a hand. To Grimmjow's surprise, Ichigo reached out to take the offered hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Jaegerjaques," Ichigo said politely. He held her hand between his own and gave it a brief squeeze.

When Ichigo let go of her, Grimmjow's mother turned to him and reached out for him. Grimmjow hesitated. He was so very conflicted; something asked him what the fuck he was waiting for, but another voice — louder, fiercer — reminded him that this was the woman who had expressed nothing but disappointment towards him.

"Grimm," Ichigo said firmly by his ear and gave him a surprisingly rough push on his back.

Sighing inwardly, Grimmjow closed the short distance and clasped this mother's hand in his own, much larger ones. Once again, he was startled to feel how tiny his mother's hand was, and how cold and dainty it was. He couldn't remember the last time he held his mother's hand or vice versa; had she always been this small?

Grimmjow kept his eyes on his mother's face, feeling alarmed by her lack of color. Her eyelids kept sliding shut, although he could tell that she was fighting to keep them open. It was painful to watch her struggle like this, so Grimmjow blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"I'm not going anywhere, mom."

Like a nightmare coming true, a single tear slid down his mother's face, then her eyes fluttered closed.

* * *

Ichigo thought his heart stopped when Grimmjow's mother didn't reopen her eyes. Next to him, Grimmjow cried out, his voice more distraught than Ichigo had ever heard before.

"No…" Ichigo whispered, his stomach twisting and sending a shudder of nausea up his throat.

The doctor who had been observing them quietly rushed to the bedside and nudged Grimmjow aside, ignoring the teen's growl of warning.

Ichigo pulled Grimmjow away to make room for the doctor. Grimmjow was shaking, his breaths coming out short and ragged and punctuated with low choking sounds like he was suppressing his urge to cry. Ichigo held the taller teen close but kept his eyes averted from Grimmjow's face, knowing that the prideful boy would not want to be seen in this state.

After what seemed like hours, the doctor finally turned around. "She's just unconscious," the man said, relief plain in his voice. He ran his fingers through his shaggy blond hair absently. "It looks like the visits from you and your brother have overwhelmed her," he continued apologetically. "If it were up to me, I would not have let you see her so soon after her surgery. But, given her situation…I didn't have the heart to refuse her request."

"What situation?" Ichigo asked, even though he was afraid to hear the answer.

The doctor looked from Grimmjow and Ichigo. "Her condition is…touch and go, really. Only the second surgery can give her a better chance," he said frankly.

Ichigo nodded. He caught the hint in the doctor's gaze and touched Grimmjow's arm. "We should let her rest, then," he said softly. "Let's go."

Grimmjow remained quiet and allowed himself to be steered towards the door, but before they could reach it, it was opened from the outside. The light that would've filtered in from the hallway was blocked by a tall, stocky figure. Ichigo couldn't see the facial features because the person was backlit.

Judging from the way Grimmjow tensed up, though, it was obvious that the boy had no problem recognizing the visitor. A staring match ensued; Grimmjow's mouth pursed into a thin hard line while the figure remained unmoving at the door. Then, after a moment, the stranger took a step inside.

It was a man, his angular face handsome with sharp, intelligent eyes that threatened to pierce Ichigo's skull with just a single, brief glance. The startling shade of blue of the man's irises and his grey-streaked blue hair left no doubt of his identity. He held an intimidating air, even more so than Ulquiorra, but Ichigo could read the fatigue on the man's handsome face.

After almost a minute of tense silence, the man finally spoke. "Where are your manners, Grimmjow?"

Ichigo's fingers screamed in agony as Grimmjow tightened his hold on them, but he bit his lip to swallow a groan of pain. Another stretch of silence dragged on before Grimmjow spat out a word bitterly.

"Father."

* * *

 _How dare he_.

He looked so put-together; his face smooth, his shirt neatly pressed, and there wasn't a single strand of hair out of place. Hell, there was even a hint of cologne in the air. He looked nothing like a distraught husband whose wife was on the brink of death.

And yet he had the balls to lecture him about  _manners_?

The way Ichigo flinched in his grasp told Grimmjow that he was hurting the boy, so he relaxed his fingers slightly. He could almost taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth as he bit his lip in an effort not to lash out at his father. If it wasn't for the fact that he was still in his mother's hospital ward, Grimmjow would've dished out a lot more other than this… _greeting_ , but as it was, he did his best to reel in his anger and hatred for this man.

And that was damn near impossible. He needed to get this man out of his sight  _right this fucking second_. Ignoring the burning look of disdain in his father's eyes, Grimmjow pushed past the older man, dragging Ichigo behind him. He was thankful that his father did not say anything else, because he didn't think he could control himself if the man had.

Grimmjow didn't even realize that he had exited the hospital building until Ichigo grabbed his wrist and pulled him to a stop.

"Calm down, Grimm," Ichigo said.

Grimmjow whipped his head around, his temper flaring by reflex at the commanding tone in Ichigo's voice. "Don't tell me what to do when you don't know shit!"

Ichigo looked a bit hurt, but he gritted his teeth and persisted. "I'm not saying that I understand how you feel," he said firmly. "I just need you to calm down and get your priorities straight. You're here for your  _mother_ , don't forget that. Losing your temper will not help her."

For a split second, Grimmjow brought his fist up…then the action registered in his head and his eyes widened in horror. He tried to yank his arm from Ichigo's grip, but the boy held on to his wrist stubbornly. Struggling only made Ichigo's fingers dig painfully into his skin. After a while, Grimmjow relented and let Ichigo pull him into a hug.

"Relax," Ichigo coaxed soothingly. His voice was just a soft, breathy whisper, but it had the power of cold water over a raging flame, and Grimmjow found himself calming down.

Ichigo guided them over to a wooden bench by the side of the hospital driveway, and they sat there side-by-side silently until Ulquiorra, Byakuya, and Tessai emerged from the building. Determined not to make a fool of himself in front of Ichigo again, Grimmjow pointedly avoided his older brother's eyes.

They were soon on their way back to the estate; Grimmjow sitting in the front passenger seat while Ichigo sat with Ulquiorra and Byakuya in the back. The thirty minute ride was awkward even though Tessai tried to lighten things up by playing a ridiculously popular Korean song in the car.

When the song ended, Ulquiorra spoke up.

"It had been mother's wish to remain at home, if you must know. She said she would rather die at home than at the hospital."

Grimmjow felt bile rise in the back of his throat.

Ulquiorra paused for a few seconds before continuing in the same monotonic voice, "Father has been spending all his time at the hospital, talking with doctors and going over her options. I know you don't care, but I can't have you thinking that  _he_  doesn't care."

Grimmjow closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. It didn't make any difference. It didn't make the man any less hateful. He should be  _by her side_ , but he wasn't. He shouldn't have stopped them from seeing her yesterday, but he had. What if she hadn't pulled through? He would've robbed his sons of their last moments with their mother. The man was nothing but a selfish bastard.

The rest of the ride was so dead quiet that Grimmjow almost thought he was alone in the car. He was glad when their ride finally rolled to a stop in front of the mansion. He slammed the car door with all the strength he could muster, not caring if Tessai would be mad at him for being so immature. He needed to vent, and it scared him that he had nearly taken it out on Ichigo, of all people.

He heard Ichigo calling his name from behind, but he kept his head bowed and walked faster. He didn't really have a destination in mind; he just let his legs lead him. He heard soft footsteps following him. He didn't turn around; he didn't know what to say to Ichigo. There were just too damn much inside his head and he didn't know how to straighten it all out.

Seeing his mother in this state was jarring even though he thought he was already used to seeing her ill. There really was some truth in that saying…that you don't know what you had until you lose it. Yet, he didn't understand why he would suddenly feel so upset. It wasn't like he had really shared a bond with his mother. Was this purely instinctual? Some primitive human nature that he could not escape? He didn't like the idea of him not being in control of himself, and most of all he  _hated_  the overwhelming feeling of worry and regret that hung heavily over his head.

And then he just  _had_  to see his father. Now,  _that_  was one thing that he didn't think he would ever regret losing. He didn't understand how Ulquiorra could have this blind faith in that man when all the man seemed to care about was himself. What kind of father would favor one son over another so blatantly? It was clear to Grimmjow that the man only liked Ulquiorra because the boy pandered to his every whim, while Grimmjow was the bad apple because he had a mind of his own.

Grimmjow felt disgusted by himself for feeling so bitter about this no matter how many times he told himself that he didn't care. It was fucking pathetic.

"It's pretty," Ichigo piped up suddenly behind Grimmjow, his voice soft and full of awe.

Confused, Grimmjow finally took in his surroundings and realized with a start that he was standing in front of a neatly manicured Japanese garden. It was a tiny little thing that was tucked away in a small courtyard behind the mansion. Rocks of varying sizes littered the garden, all carefully selected and placed by his mother when she was still well enough to be outdoors. A narrow sand-covered path led to a pond that held a handful of koi fish, and next to the pond stood a weeping cherry tree. The pale pink flowers were not in bloom, given that it was winter time now, but the branches still hung low, some low enough to reach the ground.

"It's my mom's," Grimmjow said quietly.

Ichigo walked up to his side and took one of his hands. The touch was gentle and tentative, as if Ichigo was expecting Grimmjow to push him away.

"I'm sorry about…earlier," Grimmjow muttered.

Ichigo shook his head with a smile. "Don't worry about it."

There was a brief pause when they simply looked at each other wordlessly before closing their distance into a hug. In another time and place, Grimmjow might have felt embarrassed, but he needed this. Ichigo was quickly becoming his pillar, a steady rock in his life that kept him anchored, especially now when his mind was a turbulent mess.

Grimmjow sighed into Ichigo's hair and pulled away. But instead of going back into the mansion, he kept their fingers laced and stepped into the garden. They walked over to the cherry blossom tree and sat down under it, leaning their backs against the tree trunk.

Unlike the silence in the car, the silence that enveloped them now was comforting, and before long, Grimmjow felt Ichigo lean heavily against his shoulder. The boy's breathing had evened out, his chest falling and rising in a steady rhythm as he slept.

Grimmjow may be confused about a lot of things, but Ichigo wasn't one of them.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	19. Chapter 19

There wasn't much to do for the next few days except waiting. According to Tessai, the doctors didn't want to move forward with the second surgery until Grimmjow's mother showed signs of stabilizing over the week, or potentially, weeks.

The day after meeting Grimmjow's mother at the hospital, Ichigo finally remembered that he should give Shinji and Shuuhei a call. He owed them an explanation for his sudden disappearance after all; all they knew right now was that Grimmjow had a family emergency, which was hurriedly conveyed via a text message on their way to the Vegas airport. As he had expected, Shinji practically shrieked into the phone when he recognized Ichigo's voice.

"We were all so worried you little shit!" the blonde yelled over the phone.

Ichigo moved the phone away from his ear and grimaced and just let his friend vent. "Relax, we're both fine," he said when Shinji finally calmed down.

"I don't care about that ugly brute," Shinji huffed.

Ichigo could picture the blonde pouting on the other end, and he let out a snort of laughter before turning serious. He quickly gave Shinji an overview of the situation, even the change of status in his relationship with Grimmjow. He figured he at least owed his good friend that much.

Shinji didn't sound all that surprised. "Finally!" he exclaimed — Ichigo could almost hear the other teen roll his eyes. Shinji's voice became muffled after that, and Ichigo was about to ask him what was going on when Shuuhei's deeper voice came through.

"Holy shit, it's about fucking time," Shuuhei muttered dryly. "The sexual tension between you two was killing us."

Ichigo's mouth fell open. Was it really that obvious? It hadn't even occurred to him that there might be something more between them until Vegas, but it seemed like his friends were already one step ahead. Now that he thought about it, Shinji  _had_  confronted him about it before, but the idea had seemed so ridiculous at the time.

Well, now that Shinji knew, Ichigo wouldn't be surprised if all their friends knew within the next five minutes. Not that he minded, really. The blonde's lust for gossip was just irritating in an amusing sort of way.

"I assume he's the top," Shinji said gleefully.

Ichigo immediately blushed. "It's none of your business," he retorted.

The blonde let out a bark of laughter. "Is he any good?"

"Shinji!" Ichigo hollered indignantly, his face turning a deeper shade of pink as his mind wandered automatically towards their rigorous romp just that morning, which had been more than  _good_.

Then, right at that moment, the bed bounced and Ichigo nearly fell off the edge in surprise. He whirled around and scowled at the cause of the interruption.

Grimmjow was undeterred by the look on Ichigo's face. If anything, his grin only widened and his eyes sparkled with an impish gleam. Ichigo groaned inwardly. That look never ended well...for him, at least. Sure enough, Grimmjow began to crawl over to him.

Over on the other end, Shinji was oblivious to Ichigo's impending doom. "You gave him your virginity, didn't you?" the blonde asked insistently.

Before Ichigo could suggest that they cut the phone conversation short, Grimmjow pounced on him from behind and flipped him around to pin him to the mattress on his back. Ichigo couldn't help but let out a breathless "oof" at the impact.

Shinji immediately picked up on that. "What's going on, Ichi?"

"Noth—ahh!" Ichigo's reply was cut short when Grimmjow cupped his face and licked the shell of his ear.

"Uhh...you'd better not be doing the nasty right now," Shinji said accusingly, his tone a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Ichigo opened his mouth to explain, but Grimmjow chose to move his tongue down to Ichigo's neck. One hand sneaked underneath Ichigo's t-shirt and tweaked a nipple before sliding down the length of his torso to knead his butt through his shorts. Ichigo bit back a moan, but a small choking sound managed to escape, and it wasn't lost on Shinji.

"Oh my god, you  _are_!" the blonde screeched before bursting into laughter. A low murmur followed, and howls of laughter filtered through the phone speaker; Ichigo recognized Nnoitra's obnoxious cackles and Rangiku's giggles. Horrified and beyond embarrassed, he quickly hung up.

"You idiot!" Ichigo cried, squirming beneath Grimmjow as the larger teen buried his face against Ichigo's neck and laughed. "I'm gonna kill you!"

Grimmjow only laughed harder, and before long, Ichigo found himself joining in, albeit grudgingly at first. He would never live this down; Shinji would make sure of it.

Things progressed quickly after that; Grimmjow wasting no time stripping them both before bracing himself over Ichigo. They exchanged heated looks, and then Ichigo gasped as Grimmjow pushed into him slowly. They took their time; exploring and tasting each other languidly but thoroughly. When it was over, they settled bonelessly into the mattress and waited until their breaths returned to normal before cleaning up after themselves.

* * *

The next few days were much of the same. Grimmjow showed him around the mansion and grounds. Ichigo knew the other teen was trying very hard not to sound too proud of his home, but he could detect a hint of it in Grimmjow's eyes. No matter how unhappy he had been, this was where he had grown up after all.

"And this is our library," Grimmjow said in a tone that suggested that this was one place that he avoided at all costs.

Ichigo snickered. The large room was circular with an impressive high ceiling, the walls covered with built-in shelves that housed books of varying genre. The wooden shelves were made of rich mahogany, and right in the middle of the room, arranged neatly on top of a circular rug, were four high-back chairs and a coffee table that matched the color of the shelves.

As Grimmjow closed the door, Ichigo ran his fingers along the shelves and walked around the room, marveling at the well-stocked library. Most of the books that he could see were serious, non-fiction ones, but there were a good collection of romance and mystery novels as well.

"Those ain't mine," Grimmjow said as soon as Ichigo pulled out one of the romance novels.

"Could've fooled me," Ichigo retorted with a roll of his eyes. The books were old, but he could tell that they were lovingly cared for. Some of the wrinkled edges had been fixed with cellophane tape, while others had the entire cover wrapped in plastic.

He continued his exploration while Grimmjow plopped down into one of the chairs and rested his feet on the coffee table. They had nothing better to do anyway, so Ichigo knew Grimmjow wouldn't bother him if he spent more time in here checking things out. He continued to walk along the shelf, pulling out any book that happened to catch his eye until he came to a stop in front of two full shelves of photo albums.

"Found gold?" Grimmjow's teasing voice floated across the room.

Ichigo crouched down and touched the spines of the albums. He could tell that they were old from the faded and yellowed covers. Unable to resist his curiosity, he had pulled one almost completely out from its place before remembering that these were probably Grimmjow's family's personal photos, and he had no right to peek at them without permission.

But before he could shove the album back to where it belonged, Grimmjow piped up lazily, "Go ahead, it's just a bunch of stupid photos."

Ichigo rolled his eyes again and picked out the thickest and largest one. Even though it looked and even smelled old, it wasn't dusty. Ichigo wondered fleetingly how often this room was cleaned. Over the past few days he had seen more servants and maids than he ever thought he would lay eyes on in his entire life. It was a miracle Grimmjow didn't turn out worse. Grimmjow may have issues with his family members, but he wasn't short on any of the luxuries that they had.

Once the album was laid out on his lap, Ichigo lifted the cover gingerly. The first page was a black-and-white photo of Grimmjow's parents; Ichigo could recognize them easily even though they were much, much younger in there. Grimmjow's mother was as petite as her husband was tall and broad. Her hair was styled in a bob that brushed her shoulders, and she was leaning against her husband with a mischievous smile on her face. Grimmjow's father had an arm wrapped possessively around her waist, and instead of looking at the camera, his face was angled to the side, his eyes glued lovingly to his wife.

Ichigo glanced at Grimmjow, who was staring up at the ceiling with a bored expression. Had Grimmjow ever seen this photo? If he ever doubted his father's feelings for his mother, this photo alone was proof enough how deeply the man loved his wife. Or at least he did...back then. Ichigo sighed and flipped the page. Perhaps things had changed over the years, he really wouldn't know.

The next few pages were still of Grimmjow's parents; their visits to Paris, Milan, and a bunch of other places that Ichigo didn't recognize, photos of them with their friends having a good time by the pool, photos of them around the mansion. As Ichigo turned the pages, he noticed a significant pattern: Grimmjow's mother was getting thinner and thinner. Her eyes still sparkled, but her face had become gaunt, and more and more of her photos were of her sitting down indoors.

Then Ichigo flipped to the next page and came face-to-face with a black-haired toddler with large watery green eyes.

Ulquiorra looked serious even as a toddler. Out of the dozen or so photos of him, Ichigo saw only one that had him smiling in it. Ichigo's gaze lingered on that photo. Ulquiorra was facing away from the camera, his head turned towards his mother, who was holding him in her arms. She was sitting Indian-style on the floor and had her head tilted to the side, laughing. Young Ulquiorra was standing in her lap and smiling dumbly at her with an arm raised like he wanted to grab her hair.

Ichigo nearly cooed out loud at the heartwarming image, but managed to stop himself in time. Grimmjow probably wouldn't appreciate him doing that over his older brother's photo. So Ichigo continued to plough through the album until he got to the end. Ulquiorra looked older now, perhaps four or five. There was no sign of Grimmjow.

Frowning, Ichigo put the album back and pulled out the next one. This one looked like a continuation of the previous one. The first page was of Ulquiorra in a dress shirt and black slacks holding a tiny little violin by his side. The boy had a solemn look on his face, like he was going to perform at Carnegie Hall or something. The next few photos were about the same; Ulquiorra playing the violin, Ulquiorra bowing, Ulquiorra shaking hands with some middle-aged people who looked like they were dressed up for some kind of function.

Then, ten pages into the album, Grimmjow finally made an appearance. Ichigo nearly snorted out loud when he saw it. Grimmjow was  _tiny_. As in, premature baby kind of tiny. He was wrapped up in a powder blue blanket and his face was all scrunched up, no doubt throwing a fit while this picture was taken. He was cradled against his mother's chest, her tired-looking eyes gazing at the camera with a proud smile on her face.

Ichigo couldn't help touching the photo. There was no way this woman didn't love her son. After staring at the picture for a few more seconds, Ichigo continued to flip through the pages. To his surprise, that was the only one with Grimmjow in it. The rest were mostly of Ulquiorra and his mother, and occasionally, Ulquiorra with his father. There were a couple with Tessai in it, his mustache every bit as bushy as it was now. There was one of Unohana in the kitchen, with Ulquiorra perched on the stool at the counter, his short legs dangling at least two feet above the floor.

But no Grimmjow.

Ichigo sighed inwardly. Ulquiorra wasn't lying when he said that Grimmjow was a mistake. It seemed like his parents, or more likely, his father was determined to pretend that the boy did not exist. Feeling depressed, Ichigo lost interest in the photo album and stuffed it back in its original place. His long face did not go unnoticed by Grimmjow.

"Yeah, now you know why I don't give a shit about those photos," Grimmjow said, his voice surprisingly quiet.

Ichigo walked over to Grimmjow and crawled into his lap. There really wasn't anything he could say to make Grimmjow feel better, so Ichigo settled for a simple kiss on Grimmjow's cheek.

"Sometimes I feel like I was a mistake, like I'm not meant to be here," Grimmjow muttered, slipping his arms around Ichigo's waist.

Ichigo almost choked on his own spit. Grimmjow had  _no idea_  how close to the truth he was. He was glad that Grimmjow couldn't see his face at the moment, because he knew he had failed to conceal his grimace. He was torn. It felt wrong to him that he knew the truth while Grimmjow didn't, yet he didn't think he should the one to breech this subject. Especially not now when Grimmjow was already under so much emotional stress.

Luckily for him, Grimmjow had spaced out just long enough to miss Ichigo's reaction. When Grimmjow let out a heavy sigh, Ichigo leaned in and gave the teen's lower lip a quick nip. "If that's the case, then you're the best mistake in my life," he mumbled, feeling his own cheeks heating up for delivering such a corny line.

Grimmjow stared at Ichigo for a moment, his lips twitching and eyebrows raised in disbelief, then his shoulders starting shaking with suppressed laughter.

Blushing madly in embarrassment, Ichigo gave Grimmjow a stinging smack on the side of his head and shoved him back into the chair. "See if I ever say anything nice to you again!" he huffed indignantly.

"Aww, I'm sorry!" Grimmjow chuckled and ducked as Ichigo aimed another hit on the other side of his head. Then his face turned serious and he pulled Ichigo into a tight hug.

Grimmjow didn't say anything, but the way he buried his face into Ichigo's neck told Ichigo enough. After a while, Ichigo lifted Grimmjow's head and bent down to nip at his lips again. Grimmjow growled low in his throat, his eyes sliding closed as he fought back for dominance. Ichigo bit back a moan when he felt Grimmjow's hands slip under the waistband of his shorts and boxers.

"Does...anyone..." Ichigo mumbled between pants, his breath becoming heavier as Grimmjow began to grind against him. "...come here?"

Grimmjow gave a noncommittal shrug and deepened their kiss. Ichigo hooked his arms around Grimmjow's neck and pressed himself into the larger teen, his body temperature spiking as his hunger built. Screw it. They could deal with it later if anyone did come in. For now, he just wanted to show Grimmjow how much he wanted him, and he wanted him so much now that he felt like he would spontaneously combust if they didn't do something about it.

"Eh?"

Ichigo lifted his head at Grimmjow's tone of surprise. Grimmjow gave him a look and raised an eyebrow, smirking as he dangled a small bottle in front of his face. All the blood in Ichigo's body immediately rushed to his face as he realized that Grimmjow must have found it while he was taking off his shorts.

"Well prepared, are we?" Grimmjow asked teasingly.

"Shut up!" Ichigo punched him in the arm. "W-we've been...you know! Anywhere...just being..." His voice faltered as his attempt at explaining only made Grimmjow laugh harder.

Chuckling softly, Grimmjow gave Ichigo's cheek a long lick, earning himself another punch in the arm. "...prepared," he finished for Ichigo.

"Whatever." Ichigo's grumble was silenced easily with another deep kiss that left both of them gasping afterwards.

Ichigo hopped off Grimmjow's lap briefly to undress himself before climbing back on and resuming their frantic groping until the chair protested their combined weight. Even then, they only paused just long enough for Grimmjow to lift Ichigo up and lay them both down on the rug. Once Ichigo was settled on his back, Grimmjow broke away and crawled backwards towards Ichigo's legs.

Ichigo closed his eyes and groaned in anticipation as he pictured Grimmjow's head bobbing between his legs. He felt puffs of warm breath on his hip, then he jumped in surprise when, instead of the expected heat, he was suddenly engulfed in icy-cold slickness.

"Trying something new," Grimmjow murmured, keeping his eyes on his hands where he was coating Ichigo's length with copious amount of lube from the bottle he had found earlier.

"...huh?" Ichigo slurred as he tried not to thrust into Grimmjow's fist.

Grimmjow hummed to himself for another minute, then, instead of spreading Ichigo's legs like he always did, he straddled Ichigo's thighs and raised himself onto his knees. Grimmjow continued to stroke Ichigo, but his other hand was hidden behind his back, out of Ichigo's view. Ichigo propped himself up on his elbows and peered at Grimmjow curiously.

"What are you doing?" Ichigo asked, not really able to think straight with his pleasure-fogged mind.

Grimmjow's only response was a slight grimace on his face as he appeared to do something behind his back. Something in Ichigo's head told him that he should know what was going on, but it didn't click until Grimmjow began to lower himself onto him. Ichigo was too shocked to move, and by the time he realized what was happening, he was already half way inside Grimmjow.

"Shit!" Ichigo hissed, his back arching as he was pressed further into the welcoming heat. "Ahh...shit!"

Grimmjow shot him a glare before letting out a shuddering groan. "Yeah, that's real sexy," he said sarcastically.

"Next time gimme a warni—ahhh..." Ichigo's complaint was lost when Grimmjow raised himself briefly before slamming down all the way. "Oi...t-take it...easy!" Ichigo managed to croak between moans.

Ichigo never thought he would ever experience this. Grimmjow didn't seem to be the kind who would ever do this, so Ichigo was taken completely by surprise. Not that he was complaining, of course. As Grimmjow sped up, Ichigo couldn't stop himself from bucking up and meeting Grimmjow half way. The rhythm was a little awkward in the beginning as they tried to get their movements in sync, but after a while they fell into a steady pace. Grimmjow's thighs flexed as he moved, and Ichigo dug his fingers into them, clinging to Grimmjow even though he was the one pinned to the floor.

As the pleasure continued to build, Ichigo became bolder and decided to spring a surprise of his own. He waited until Grimmjow lifted himself up, then with a powerful twist and push, Ichigo flipped them over, knocking Grimmjow into the floor beneath him. Grimmjow's eyes widened, but if he was going to complain about this, he never got the chance, because the change to the angle immediately reduced his words into a string of muttered curses. Ichigo slipped his hand between them as he braced himself above Grimmjow, and then all too soon, it was over.

Panting heavily, Ichigo rolled off Grimmjow's body and sank into the rug by his side. Still high on pleasure and surprise, Ichigo began to chuckle, his eyes becoming wider as the whole experience finally registered in his mind.

"Ya like it?"

Ichigo stared at Grimmjow, who had his brows furrowed as if he was worried. "Are you kidding? That was...awesome," Ichigo said, sighing in contentment.

"Good," Grimmjow said, grimacing as he touched the sticky mess on his abdomen. He sat up and immediately winced. "Because I don't think it's going to happen again any time soon..."

Ichigo latched on to the loophole. "But it will...eventually?" he teased.

Grimmjow shot him a glare before finally grinning. "Maybe," he said, laying back down to rest. "It was really good," he added in a lower voice, as if he was embarrassed to admit it. After a brief pause, he threw a sideways glance at Ichigo. "For my first time."

Ichigo's mouth fell open. He knew it! Grimmjow would never do it, yet he had just done it...for him.

Whatever that was written on Ichigo's face must be extremely emotional, because Grimmjow said hastily, "Now don't go all Captain Corny on me again..."

"Aww," Ichigo pretended to pout, but it only lasted a handful of seconds before the two of them burst into laughter.

After resting for another few minutes, Ichigo finally mumbled something about people barging in on them and rolled over to get up. But just as he was pushing himself off the carpet, something caught his eye. It looked like a corner of a book that was peeking out from underneath one of the chairs. Ichigo pulled it out, meaning to put it back on the shelves, but he froze when he read the cover.

It wasn't a book. It was a photo album, and on the cover, it said "My Little Kitten". Underneath the words was a small photo of a baby with a tuft of bright blue hair on his head.

"Grimm," Ichigo whispered.

"Hmm?" Grimmjow stuck his head over Ichigo's shoulder. Ichigo heard the boy's breath catch as he recognized himself in that photo. "What the hell?"

For once, Ichigo forgot about his state of undress and sat up straighter with the album in his hand. Carefully, with a glance at a very wide-eyed Grimmjow, he opened it.

* * *

"I don't get it," Grimmjow mumbled, feeling more and more confused as he flipped the pages. After the initial shock ebbed, Ichigo had insisted that they put on their clothes before they explored the album any further, but he knew his hair was a complete mess and his jeans wasn't even zipped up.

The first page was a photo of him as a tiny little bundle lying in a crib, sleeping with his eyes closed. He didn't know he had been this small; he never paid attention to the other albums ever since he found out that he was mostly excluded from them. The next few pages showed him in varying sleeping poses, sometimes with his thumb in his mouth, sometimes with little gloves on his hands. Each of the photos were labeled in neat, delicate handwriting that he recognized as his mother's.

"Kitten finally arrived, mama loves you so much little Kitten!" the label said next to the first picture.

The next one, placed beside the photo with his thumb in his mouth, said, "Aww Kitten is hungry!"

Grimmjow swallowed as he quickly turned to the next page. He looked a little older now in the photos, maybe one or so. Most of him showed him either crying or pouting, each labeled with "Don't cry baby Kitten, mama loves you" with tiny hearts drawn next to the words. None of them had his mother in them, it was always only him in the photo, so he could only assume that his mother was the photographer.

The labels went from "Kitten's first tooth" to "Kitten is going to school!". He was becoming older as the album progressed. The pattern wasn't lost on him — the older he got, the more the photos looked like they were taken secretly. He never looked at the camera, and when his face was visible he usually had a scowl on it.

"Mama loves you, Kitten," the labels went on to say. "I wish I'm strong enough to play with you, Kitten."

Then he came to a photo where he had a large bandage across his torso — he remembered that fight; it was the one where Tessai barely managed to get to him in time. He was talking to Tessai in the photo, his eyes narrowed in anger. Next to that photo, the words said "I'm sorry, Kitten. I wish I could've protected you." He was ten years old at the time.

Ichigo was silent next to him, but Grimmjow knew the boy was looking at him. He could almost smell the worry wafting from Ichigo. He wished Ichigo wouldn't look at him like that. He didn't get why his mother would keep something like that from him. Why was she always so distant if she loved him so much? Was it really like what she said...that she simply wasn't strong enough?

There was about half of the album left when the door suddenly swung open. Grimmjow's first instinct was to slam the album shut, then he looked up to see Tessai at the doorway. The man's lips were set in a thin, grim line, then he spoke.

"Your mother was just wheeled into surgery."

* * *

**To be continued...**


	20. Chapter 20

Grimmjow was off the floor in a heartbeat, his open fly forgotten. Ichigo followed a second later, scrambling to his feet, only vaguely aware that he was clenching his fists at his sides.

"Don't freak out," Tessai warned even though worry showed in his eyes as well.

They made their way over to the door and waited expectantly for Tessai to unblock their path and take them to the hospital. But the man stood where he was, his brows drawn together in a look of conflict.

"What are you waiting for?" Grimmjow asked impatiently.

Ichigo looked from Grimmjow to Tessai, then as Tessai breathed out a low sigh, Ichigo understood.

"We're supposed to wait here?" he asked, feeling indignant on behalf of Grimmjow.

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Yes," Tessai said reluctantly. "I'm afraid that's the order…but…"

"But you know I won't have it," Grimmjow finished, his features softening as he realized that his mentor had not meant to make him stay at home.

Tessai's eyebrows twitched. It was clear that the man didn't go against his master's wishes often, but Ichigo could tell that this was an exception that Tessai was willing to make.

Just then, Starrk's voice floated down the hallway leading to the library. "Good, looks like you found them."

Several sets of footsteps followed, and three figures appeared behind Tessai. Starrk gave Grimmjow and Ichigo a quick once-over, then, to Ichigo's embarrassment, the man winked at him knowingly.

"I'm not staying here," Grimmjow said fiercely, his eyes narrowed once more.

His frustration was understandable. Starrk was every bit as loyal to his father as Tessai was, and there was no question that Ulquiorra would simply follow his father's orders blindly.

Starrk raised his eyebrows and threw a sideways glance at Ulquiorra. All heads turned to look at the raven-haired male, who seemed oblivious to the fact that he was now the center of attention.

Ichigo tensed involuntarily as Grimmjow and Ulquiorra stared at each other; the blue-haired teenager's nostrils flaring in preparation for a fight while his older sibling remained expressionless. Then, after a few seconds, Ulquiorra finally turned to Tessai and Starrk with new determination in his eyes.

"I agree," he said simply.

How anyone could look so calm under distress was beyond Ichigo; he didn't know whether he should be impressed, or whether he should have a talk with Ulquiorra later — about how this quality of his had the unfortunate side effect of making him look like a cold-hearted asshole.

"Good, we've all decided, then," Starrk said.

As everyone nodded, the man gestured for them to follow him.

* * *

Their footsteps echoed loudly as the little group marched down the hospital hallway to the surgical family waiting room. It was the closest they were allowed to be while Grimmjow's mother underwent surgery.

When they arrived, the lone occupant in the room lifted his head. The tired, swollen eyes widened a fraction as the man recognized all the faces at the doorway, then they narrowed in anger.

Ichigo noted the half-dried tear streaks on the older Jaegerjaques's cheeks and the red-rimmed eyes. There had been a sliver of vulnerability in there just before a mask was put in place as soon as the man realized that he was no longer alone in the room.

Was this why Grimmjow's father did not want them here? Was it just a matter of stubborn pride, that the man could not bear to let others see his emotions and heartbreak, to the point that he would rather let his pride mold him into the selfish man that he seemed to be?

Ichigo sighed inwardly. Grimmjow had the same problem, although not nearly as bad. Perhaps this was simply how they were brought up; somehow, at some point in their lives, it must have been instilled in them that baring their emotions was a sign of weakness.

How ridiculous.

"What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to remain at the estate?" Grimmjow's father demanded hoarsely.

* * *

Grimmjow took a step forward, doing his damned best to reel in the fury that was simmering in his chest. "For once, father," he gritted out. "For once, I'm not doing this just to piss you off. I'm doing this… _we_ are doing this for mother, and you have no fucking right to stop us."

Grimmjow could hear the sharp intake of breath from practically every person in the room; his father included. He forced himself to maintain eye contact even as the intensity of his father's gaze grew. There was a lot of anger in there, but Grimmjow wasn't blind to his father's damp cheeks. He had never seen his father look like this. It made him feel uneasy, but it also made the man just a tad less like a cold slab of marble.

For a tense moment, it looked as though the trademark Jaegerjaques temper was going to be unleashed in the small room, then all of a sudden it died down. The fire in his father's eyes faded, and in its wake was a sense of deep, biting fatigue that looked even more foreign on his father than sadness. Grimmjow may not love his father like a son would typically, but he knew enough about his father to recognize what was normal and what was not.

His father stood up and gave all of them a tired glance, then he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and stalked out of the waiting room. On an impulse, Grimmjow moved to follow, but Tessai held him back firmly.

"He has already taken a step back," Tessai said gently. "Let him be."

Grimmjow gave a snort of disgust. "He's a selfish coward," he muttered darkly before taking a seat between Tessai and Ichigo.

Tessai shook his head. "Man has done worse things over pride, Grimmjow," he said wisely.

Grimmjow gave his mentor an incredulous look. Bodyguard, martial arts instructor, sort-of-butler-slash-chauffeur, and now... _philosopher_ ; Tessai never ceased to amaze him. Grimmjow leaned back further into the chair and let out a frustrated sigh. It wasn't just his father that irked him. The worst thing was knowing that he couldn't do anything but wait here. He felt a little better being at least physically closer to his mother, but it wouldn't make a difference whether she made it or not.

Or would it?

Grimmjow clutched the photo album just a little tighter in his hands. He didn't believe in any religion in particular, and he wasn't going to start now. But if his mother could just... _feel_  that he cared, maybe that would count for something. He cussed out loud at the thought. If only he'd had the chance to talk to his mother before she went into the operating room, even if it was simply to tell her that he would be waiting for her to get well.

Fuck his father and his fucking pride.

Just as Grimmjow's anger was about to rise another notch, Ichigo placed his palm over Grimmjow's hand and gave it a brief squeeze.

"It's going to be alright," Ichigo murmured, his voice so low that Grimmjow had to lean closer to catch the words.

Words that would otherwise sound hollow and fake if they were not uttered by Ichigo. There was just  _something_  about the orange-haired boy that made the gesture completely sincere, and Grimmjow unconsciously drew strength from it.

"Yeah," he muttered.

The silence that permeated the cozy little waiting room was thick, punctuated only by the steady ticking of the large wall clock hanging above the counter. The counter sat next to one of the walls, and held what most people would find comforting at moments like this — a coffee machine, sachets of hot chocolate mix, paper cups, and sugar. Next to the counter was a water dispenser that served both hot water and cold water.

Ichigo gave Grimmjow's hand another quick squeeze, then he rose to his feet and walked across the room to the cups. Grimmjow watched Ichigo as the boy lined up six cups on the counter top and opened up sachets of chocolate mix. Ichigo's hands worked deftly, his movements graceful even while doing something as mundane as making hot chocolate.

Soon, he was going around the room handing out cups of the steaming hot beverage. Placing the photo album on his lap, Grimmjow brought the cup up to his lips and blew on it tentatively. He had held on to the photo album ever since he got his hands on it in the library, not having the heart to leave it behind when he left for the hospital. He still had a good half of the album unexplored, and he had plenty of time now if not anything else.

As though he could read Grimmjow's mind, Ichigo held out his hand for Grimmjow's cup. Grimmjow gave him a fleeting smile and allowed the boy to pry the cup away from his grasp. He took a deep breath, then opened the album.

He started from the very beginning again even though he had already seen them. It was still surreal, looking at his young self. He was…cute, if he may say so himself. It was funny to see himself with slightly curly hair as a toddler, something he was glad he had grown out of.

As he flipped the pages, the hair at the back of his neck prickled. Grimmjow looked up instinctively and caught a pair of emerald green eyes staring at him from several seats away. He frowned and stared back defiantly until Ulquiorra turned away.

Letting out an annoyed grunt, Grimmjow resumed his examination of the photo album. A few pages later, Tessai stood up and walked out of the room, presumably to the restroom, and Grimmjow relaxed his body, letting it unfurl a little from the uncomfortable angled position he had been holding. He didn't mean to be rude, but he didn't really feel like sharing this finding with his mentor just yet.

Not two minutes later, he felt the telltale pinprick feeling of being watched again. He whipped his head in his brother's direction; sure enough, Ulquiorra was looking at him, his expression, for once, one of curiosity and…oddly, yearning. Like he had something to say really badly but was afraid to say it. Whatever it was, Grimmjow narrowed his eyes and stared hard at his older sibling, sending him a silent challenge.

_Come at me, if you dare._

After a long, suspended moment, Ulquiorra finally broke eye contact. The man touched his quiet companion's hand briefly, then, to Grimmjow's surprise, left his seat and walked towards him.

Ichigo lifted his head when he, too, noticed Ulquiorra's presence when the raven-haired man came to a stop in front of them.

"What do you want?" Grimmjow asked warily.

Ulquiorra seemed to be at a loss of words, then Ichigo spoke up.

"Sit down," the boy said, pointing to Tessai's chair.

"What the…" Grimmjow protested at once, but was silenced when Ichigo dug his fingers painfully into his thigh.

Ulquiorra glanced down at the still-open photo album in Grimmjow's lap. It took Grimmjow a handful of seconds to realize that his brother did not look surprised at all.

"Did…did you know about… _this_?" Grimmjow asked, feeling strangely jealous.

Ulquiorra nodded. "I was the one who took the more…recent photos," he admitted.

Grimmjow sat up straighter in his seat. "What?"

"You're hardly ever at home," Ulquiorra said. "How else could she get your photos?" After a pause, he asked curiously, finally getting to the point that made him walk over here in the first place, "Where did you find this?"

"In the library," Grimmjow replied.

"Under one of the chairs," Ichigo offered.

Ulquiorra's eyes widened slightly, and then he nodded, like their answers explained it all. Grimmjow glared at his brother.

"The library was where she collapsed the other day," Ulquiorra said, his face falling at the recollection. "She must've been looking at it at the time."

Grimmjow let out a frustrated breath. He had so many questions about this book, but asking his condescending older brother was not an appealing idea.

Ulquiorra gestured with his head for Grimmjow to continue looking through the album. After shooting his brother a few more bone-chilling — at least, that was his intention — glares, Grimmjow grudgingly did so.

On the pages, little Grimmjow grew from a newborn to a seemingly hyperactive toddler. Earlier, when he flipped through the pages in the library, he had been shocked and had gone through them hastily. Now, he was able to look at each photo closely. A good number of the photos were blurry, catching him mid-run or something similar. But what shook him the most was two pages that he had missed completely during his first pass.

Ichigo let out an involuntary "awww" as they stared down at a photo of Ulquiorra holding Grimmjow. The older boy had a look of utter terror on his face as if he was afraid of the wiggling bundle in his arms. Grimmjow's mouth was wide open, his eyes clenched tight and cheeks bright red, probably screaming his lungs out. Next to that photo, Grimmjow's mother wrote "My precious babies".

Grimmjow blinked rapidly, willing the burn in his eyes to go away. This photo album was doing ridiculous things to his head, making him  _feel_  things that he had never felt before. It killed him to imagine his mother sitting in one of the chairs in the library, flipping through these very same pages and reminiscing the past, thinking about her precious babies as they were when they were still close to her.

The photo on the next page looked like a badly taken self portrait, like the ones that Asian girls loved so much. Grimmjow's mother, obviously the photographer, had her arms extended, holding the camera facing the three of them. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Ulquiorra standing next to her holding a partially-eaten slice of chocolate cake. The boy's pale face was marred by splotches of chocolate around his mouth as though he had used the cake as a napkin rather than actually eating it. Grimmjow was sitting on his mother's lap, with one chocolate-covered hand waving in the air, his mouth and nose also smeared with chocolate.

"You were a messy eater," Ulquiorra pointed out with a straight face.

Grimmjow gaped at his brother in disbelief. Ichigo let out a snicker.

"By the way, do you know why your mom calls Grimmjow 'kitten'?" Ichigo asked, still chuckling.

Ulquiorra cocked his head to the side and eyed his younger brother critically. "Because when he was born, he looked like a wrinkly newborn kitten. I thought he looked more like a rat, really, but she said 'kitten' sounded better," he intoned.

To Grimmjow's chagrin, he felt his mouth twitch and his stomach clench in the way that meant that he was about to laugh. Ichigo, on the other hand, was already doubled over in his chair, sputtering and coughing as he laughed.

It was absolutely surreal. This was quite literally the first time in Grimmjow's memory that he and Ulquiorra actually sat this close to each other without having a fight. Of course, this didn't mean that he felt a gush of love for his brother all of a sudden, but it felt strange, like they both knew that this was some kind of turning point in their lives.

The urge to laugh died as a sense of dread and confusion crept into his chest. Grimmjow pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned. He didn't know what to think. Should he like it? Was this a good thing?

Sensing the awkwardness in the air, Ichigo fell silent. Ulquiorra kept quiet as well, and Grimmjow felt his brother's expectant gaze on him even without looking up. It was like Ulquiorra was waiting for him to  _do_  something. But what could he possibly do? Shake hands and give Ulquiorra a hug? Apologize for being a pain in the ass for the past eighteen years? Grimmjow felt a surge of indignation. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't like he knew what was going on inside his mother's head. He didn't even know that she kept a separate photo album of him, or why she did so, or why she kept it a secret from him.

Grimmjow bent forward in his seat and clamped his hands over his ears.  _So many questions_. He had so many questions that he thought his head was going to explode. To make it worse, he might never find out, because she was fighting for her life in the operating room right this instant, and nobody knew if she was going to make it. He didn't want to ask Ulquiorra, even if the man had all the answers. He wanted to hear it from  _her_.

Why did everything have to be so fucking complicated?

Grimmjow felt a sudden urge to get away. He was suffocating, his chest fucking  _hurt_ , his head pounded and wouldn't stop running the same questions over and over again in his mind. He snapped the album shut and stood up so abruptly that Ichigo flinched in surprise. Then, without a word, he stalked out of the room, leaving the photo album on the chair. Air. He needed air.

But of course Ichigo wouldn't let him go off alone. Not two seconds later, Ichigo was by his side, walking at the same brisk pace as his. Grimmjow gave his boyfriend a brief glance. The boy had both hands shoved deep inside his jacket pockets, his eyes glued to his own shoes. Grimmjow could tell that Ichigo was worried; about his mother, of course, but also about  _him_. He could almost see the boy's neck twitching from his effort to  _not_  look at him.

What did he ever do to deserve Ichigo?

Grimmjow felt overwhelmed. Just within one week, he went from an angry kid whom nobody loved — except from Tessai, he supposed — to someone who apparently had unconditional love from not one but  _two_  people.

He didn't know where he was heading, he just walked, his body following the twist and turns of the hospital hallways. The white walls all looked the same, the floor all the same muted light green linoleum. Everything was clean and neat and sterile on here. There weren't many people around, mostly just nurses. When he rounded another corner, Ichigo finally stopped him. The boy's grip was surprisingly powerful, reminding Grimmjow that, while Ichigo was caring and gentle most of the time, he was every bit as hot-blooded and strong as Grimmjow. Perhaps even more so.

Ichigo pushed Grimmjow against the wall. "Don't run away," he murmured, leaning close so that their noses touched.

Grimmjow closed his eyes. "What if she doesn't make it?" he asked, hating the fact that he sounded so desperate.

Instead of an empty promise of "she will", Ichigo cupped Grimmjow's face and pressed their lips together.

All the tension in Grimmjow's body instantly melted, and he responded, parting his lips to welcome Ichigo's probing tongue. Ichigo's soothing warmth enveloped him completely, wrapping around him like an invisible security blanket. This wasn't one of their usual passionate, pre-sex kisses, but one that was intended to comfort a heart in turmoil. Still, Grimmjow moaned softly into Ichigo's mouth, feeling his own breath quicken and an almost liquid-like heat spread in his chest.

After one last flick of his tongue on Grimmjow's lower lip, Ichigo pulled away and rested his forehead on Grimmjow's.

"Thank you," Grimmjow said, leaning forward to give Ichigo's lip a quick nip.

"You're welcome," Ichigo replied with a snicker. "That would be one hundred dollars please."

Grimmjow laughed despite himself. God, he was turning soft. But he wouldn't have it any other way. Ichigo was his rock, and he would do anything to keep him, even if it meant venturing into unfamiliar territory and behaving just like the people he used to ridicule.

"We should head back," Ichigo said.

With a sigh, Grimmjow nodded. They walked slowly back to the waiting room and found everyone back in their original place. Ulquiorra had gone back to sit next to Byakuya, and Tessai was in his seat next to Grimmjow. His mother's photo album was in his chair where he had left it.

The next two hours went by slowly. One by one, whether consciously or unconsciously, they took turns taking a break from the room. The tension and worry was only climbing with each passing minute, and the weight of it all was threatening to overwhelm even the strongest of them all. Even Tessai, who was normally steady and calm like a rock, began to fidget and jiggle his leg nervously. Starrk seemed to be the least affected; the man simply sat in a corner and snoozed off and on, head tilted to the side, arms crossed loosely over his chest. But anyone could see that Starrk was anything but relaxed simply by observing how his half-lidded eyes darted to the door every time he jolted awake.

Grimmjow's father never made a reappearance, and Grimmjow couldn't help but wonder where he was. Learning that there was more to his mother than he ever knew didn't change the fact that there was no love lost between him and his father. In fact, if anything, Grimmjow felt his resentment for the man deepen. He didn't know the whole story, but he had a feeling that his father was a factor — if not the sole reason — for his mother's odd behavior.

Then, just after Ichigo returned from a trip to the vending machine, footsteps approached the waiting room door.

* * *

"The surgery went well," the blond-haired doctor announced. The genuine, triumphant grin on the young lead surgeon's face lit up his features despite the five-o-clock shadow that he was sporting. "We will be monitoring her closely in the intensive care unit for the next few days. It will be slow, mind you, given the history of her health, but I feel confident that she will have a smooth recovery."

For a moment, they simply gaped at each other with wide eyes, then Tessai pulled Grimmjow into a crushing hug and didn't stop squeezing until the boy started to cough. As soon as Tessai let go, Ichigo tackled him next, knocking into him with enough force to make him stumble a few steps backwards.

"Thank you, Dr. Urahara," Starrk said, seemingly the only one who had enough sense to respond to the doctor.

The doctor beamed at him and scratched the back of his head, ruffling his already-messy blond mane. He gave Starrk a firm handshake, then turned and left them to their celebration.

Through it all, Grimmjow didn't make a sound. His throat had seized up even as a rush of relief coursed through his body, so he did the only thing he could think of — he grabbed the sides of Ichigo's face and kissed him.

The only thing that stole the attention from them was Tessai sweeping Ulquiorra into a bear hug. The normally stoic man seemed to have lost his mind after hearing the good news. Poor Ulquiorra was taken by surprise and was immediately squashed in Tessai's vice-like embrace. His eyes widened almost comically, suddenly reminding Grimmjow of the photo of Ulquiorra holding him as a baby. As Tessai held him, Ulquiorra grimaced and awkwardly tried to return the gesture by patting the man's back.

This time, Grimmjow couldn't hold back his laughter. It burst forth, past the lump in his throat and tumbled from his lips as howls of laughter. The sound was infectious, and within seconds, everyone was smiling and chuckling. Yes, even Byakuya, although his version of a smile was merely a tiny quirk of his lips.

Then Starrk clapped loudly to get their attention, and they fell silent as everyone turned to look at the man.

"Does anybody know what today is?" Starrk asked, his grey eyes shining with amusement.

Everyone blinked, including Grimmjow. He wasn't even sure what day it was in the week.

Starrk rolled his eyes and was about to say something when Ichigo piped up excitedly.

"It's New Year's Day!"

Grimmjow's mouth fell open in surprise. He counted the days quickly, starting from Christmas day when he had gotten that phone call from Ulquiorra, and realized that Starrk was right. It  _was_  New Year's Day.

As people started wishing each other Happy New Year, Grimmjow allowed himself a relaxed smile. The road ahead was long and would be, no doubt, full of surprises. But this was a good sign; the new year seemed to have gotten off with a good start. He had so many questions, and it looked like he would be able to hear the answers from his mother after all.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	21. Chapter 21

"Gooooood morniiiiiiiiiiiing!"

Ichigo hit the floor shoulder-first before he even had the chance to open his eyes. With an indignant yell, he sat up on the carpeted floor and rubbed his throbbing shoulder.

"What the fuck was that for, old man?" He glared at his father, who towered over him with his hands on his hips, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Language! My darling son!" Kurosaki Isshin exclaimed with an exaggerated look of horror.

Ichigo grumbled under his breath and picked himself up reluctantly. Normally, he wouldn't have fallen victim to his father's "wake up calls" so easily — the man had outdone himself today by kicking Ichigo right out of bed — but he had stayed up until three in the morning the night before. That idiot, Renji, had insisted on toasting his graduation with shots of vodka. If Rukia hadn't stopped him in time, Ichigo would've woken up with a mother of a hangover today.

Yes.  _Renji and Rukia,_  Ichigo's two closest friends from Japan. The three of them had practically grown up together. When they found out that Ichigo's family was traveling to the states to attend his graduation ceremony, they had jumped at the opportunity to visit the states.

So now here they were, sharing a room next to Ichigo's at one of the hotels downtown.

Judging from the way Rukia gushed about Disneyland, though, Ichigo suspected darkly that his graduation was less than half of the motivation behind her visit.

Nevertheless, he couldn't be happier that they're here.

"Ichi-nii, you're going to be late!" Karin shouted from the next bed.

Before Ichigo could reply, a pillow went smack right into his face.

"Mmmfff! What the hell!"

Karin laughed with an evil glint in her eyes and took the pillow back, only to slam it into the back of her brother's head, causing him to stumble forward.

"Oi!" Ichigo protested with a scowl. He opened his mouth to scold his sister, but was immediately distracted when the pillow threatened to land on the top of his head next.

Yuzu,  _oh darling Yuzu_ , came to his rescue, handing him his clothes, all perfectly ironed and folded — underwear included.

"Hurry, Ichi-nii!" she said sweetly, pushing him towards the bathroom and beyond the reach of her abusive twin.

Ichigo gave the wall clock a brief glance on the way and paled.

"Oh fuck! Shit shit shit!"

Without another word, he bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. He heard a muffled "Language, my darling son!" from his father, but didn't bother replying.

He didn't want to be late for his own damn graduation ceremony.

* * *

"'Kay, we're here," Ichigo announced, killing the engine.

They made it — in one piece, and actually on time. This was the first time he had driven a large van, and he had five lives in his hands — not including his own. He had gotten his driver's license two years ago when they'd moved out of the dormitory, but he hadn't driven much besides the handful of times Grimmjow allowed him to touch his precious BMW.

"We'll see you in a couple of hours, then," Isshin said, patting Ichigo on the back as they piled out of the rented van.

Ichigo grinned, feeling a burst of pride as he realized that he would officially become a college graduate soon. "Yeah, see you guys later," he replied, shoving the car keys into the pocket of his slacks.

Then they went their separate ways; Ichigo to the check-in booth for the ceremony, while his family and friends to the indoor stadium to find their seats. Ichigo clutched the front of his graduation gown a little tighter, excitement welling up in his chest. He jogged up to the registration booth, which was basically a long table covered in a deep blue velvet tablecloth manned by university officers, situated next to the entrance of a hall where all the graduating students were gathered. He gave them his name, showed them his student ID, and watched eagerly as they searched for him in their large binder.

"Kurosaki, Ichigo...there you are," one of the ladies said with a smile. She pushed the binder towards Ichigo and asked him for a signature next to his name. "Congratulations, young man."

Red-faced, Ichigo thanked her. He thought of leaving, then at the last minute, he stopped. "Can you please help me check if Grimmjow Jaegerjaques has checked in yet?"

The same lady nodded and flipped through the pages searching for Grimmjow's last name. "Jackson, Jacobs...Jaegerjaques, there we are...nope, hasn't signed in, honey."

Why was he not surprised? Ichigo gave the woman a smile and made his way through the double doors into the waiting hall. It was packed inside; young men and women, most already in their gowns, chatting, laughing. Most of the boys had button-up shirts and slacks on, but some were clad simply in jeans and t-shirt. Ichigo even caught sight of one guy who was wearing shorts and flip flops.

He himself was wearing a light blue shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The hem of his shirt was tucked loosely inside a pair of neatly pressed black slacks that led down to...black-and-white checkered Vans. No stuffy patent leather dress shoes for him, thank you very much.

As he navigated his way through the crowd, eyes scanning for familiar faces, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Grimmjow's number. Two rings later, it was picked up, but he didn't even get the chance to say hello before he had to hold the phone away from his ear.

"...Mom! I don't  _need_  a tie!" came Grimmjow's voice, muffled by distance but no less loud. "No! I said... _no_...hey Ichi!"

Ichigo made a face and cradled his phone between his ear and shoulder as he spotted Shinji and the others across the room. He waved and started walking towards the blonde. "You're still at the hotel?" he asked, suppressing the urge to laugh at his boyfriend's indignant — and useless — protests.

It was useless, and Grimmjow knew it too. If the blue-haired young man had a weakness, it was this: his mother. He could shut someone up with a single glare but one pout from his mother would shut _him_  up.

"Aww, mom!" Grimmjow groaned. "Yeah, I am. She won't lemme leave!"

This time, Ichigo chuckled. He heard Mrs. Jaegerjaques giggle softly, and then her girlish voice floated through the speaker. "Good morning, Ichi!"

"Hah...morning, Mrs. J...ah...Alice," Ichigo returned the greeting. Even after three years he still hadn't gotten used to calling her by name, but Grimmjow's mother had insisted, saying that Ichigo made her feel old. "Well, you better come quick," Ichigo added, eyeing his watch. "It's almost time!"

"I'm coming..." Grimmjow lowered his voice and said in a breathy tone, using that scandalous bed voice of his. Then he burst into laughter as if he could see the blush that had immediately crept onto Ichigo's face.

"Hey!" Ichigo snapped, shuddering inwardly at the mental image of Grimmjow doing just that. "Shut up and co—get here already!"

Grimmjow let out another bark of laughter before assuring Ichigo that yes, he was on his way. Ichigo ended the call, unconsciously shaking his head and smiling at the same time.

"Oooh, somebody looks happy. Had morning sex?" Shinji's cheeky question interrupted Ichigo's thoughts, and Ichigo realized belatedly that he had already arrived in front of his friend.

Ichigo scowled. "Man, why's your brain always in the gutter?"

Before the blonde could retort, Shuuhei cut in. "Too late, Ichi, his brain is permanently cemented in the gutter," Shuuhei said, grinning and holding his arms up to block whatever attack that Shinji would unleash on him for saying this.

"Like yours is any better," Rangiku piped up and wrapped her arms around Shuuhei from behind. "Plus,  _you_ 're the one who had morning s—"

Shuuhei twisted around and covered her mouth hastily, but not before everyone had already understood her half-finished sentence. Ichigo bent over and clutched his stomach, choking with laughter as Shuuhei went red in the face in embarrassment.

"So  _that_ 's what I heard this morning!" Shinji joined in mercilessly, his eyes gleaming with mischief now that he could have his revenge. "Oh,  _Ran_ , ohh,  _Ran_..." he mimicked Shuuhei's deeper voice, making it sound breathless and absolutely lewd.

Ichigo thought he was going to die from the way his stomach muscles were spasming. Shuuhei was livid, his eyes screaming bloody murder as he tried to get to his blonde friend. Behind him, Rangiku just grinned, completely comfortable with their sex lives being discussed openly. The two of them couldn't be better suited for each other, it just took them more than ten years to finally realize that they wanted to be more than friends.

Through the madness, Izuru only rolled his eyes and remained silent, while Hanatarou tried his hardest to hide his giggles behind his hands. Ikkaku and Yumichika were openly laughing, completely unsympathetic towards Shuuhei's plight. All of them, with the exception of Nnoitra, were graduating on the same day. That idiot had ended up failing one class too many and had to stay back for another semester, but he had promised to attend their ceremony — assuming he didn't oversleep or forget.

"Where's your man, Ichi?" Rangiku asked, turning her attention from her boyfriend's antics to Ichigo.

Ichigo scratched the back of his head and did another visual sweep in the hall. He sighed. No blue hair, no feral, toothpaste-commercial-worthy grin. Grimmjow was going to be late for his own graduation ceremony.

* * *

"See ya later!" Grimmjow said with a big grin and gave his mentor a quick high-five before he climbed out of the car. Then he turned and sprinted towards the ceremony registration booth. He didn't really care so much about being late, but he knew Ichigo would throw a fit.

After scribbling a barely legible signature in the registration binder, he pushed his way through the sea of would-be-graduates. The hall was almost completely filled now. There was barely half an hour left before the students had to line up to walk into the indoor stadium to take their seats in front of the stage, where they would be receiving their diplomas.

Grimmjow's grin faltered slightly as he thought of the wrath he would be receiving from Ichigo, but the thought of seeing him quickly overrode it and brought that trademark grin back onto his face. They had been busy with their respective families over the past few days and hadn't seen each other since their families arrived. He never thought it was possible to miss somebody so badly.

His six-foot-one height gave him a little bit of an advantage as he looked for Ichigo. Of course, the fact that Ichigo had beacon-like orange hair didn't hurt. Grimmjow spotted Ichigo and his group of friends and muscled his way towards them, ignoring the indignant glares shot his way when he nudged people aside non too politely.

"Took you long enough!" Ichigo greeted him with a scowl, only to widen his eyes in dismay when he saw that Grimmjow was not only gown-less and hat-less, his shirt was not even tucked in, and his tie was missing.

"I'm happy to see you too!" Grimmjow pulled Ichigo into a hug before the boy had a chance to react, then quickly danced out of the way when Ichigo balled his fist and aimed for Grimmjow's stomach.

"Not funny!" Ichigo growled, his brows furrowed as he snatched the clear plastic bag from Grimmjow's grasp. He tore it open quickly and shook out Grimmjow's graduation gown, groaning when he saw how hopelessly wrinkled it was.

"Mm hmm, you're not getting any tonight," Shinji teased with a smirk.

Grimmjow raised his eyebrow and winked at the blonde, careful not to let Ichigo see it. Hah, Barbie didn't know half of it! There was no way Ichigo could resist him, mad or not. Still, he wasn't  _that_ anxious to push his luck, so he started to tuck his shirt into the waistband of his slacks as Ichigo continued to swear at the graduation gown.

It was then, Grimmjow decided that Ichigo looked absolutely gorgeous when he was pissed off, and he was going to do something about it.

"I think I need a mirror, you wanna come help me out?" Grimmjow asked innocently.

Ichigo glared at him but let Grimmjow drag him away anyway. They followed the signs and eventually managed to find their way to the restroom. It was, to Grimmjow's relief, empty and surprisingly clean.

The second the door clicked closed, Grimmjow pushed Ichigo against it and pressed their lips together hungrily, unable to control himself any longer.

"We're gonna be—" Ichigo gasped when Grimmjow finally released him for air. "—late!"

Grimmjow silenced the slimmer boy easily with a rough nip on his lower lip. "I'll be quick," Grimmjow promised.

Ichigo pressed a palm against Grimmjow's chest. For a moment, Grimmjow thought Ichigo was going to shove him away, but to his surprise, the boy curled his fingers around his shirt and pulled him closer instead. Grimmjow heard a soft, mumbled "oh, fuck it", and then Ichigo was suddenly kissing him back with renewed vigor.

Ah, he was such a bad influence on Ichigo.

Grimmjow contemplated carrying Ichigo into one of the stalls and finishing it there, but the thought met a quick death as soon as Ichigo's fingers went to Grimmjow's fly. Grimmjow spread his legs slightly to prevent his pants from sliding down to the floor completely, and at the same time he unziped Ichigo's graduation gown and fumbled with Ichigo's belt buckle. Letting the door support most of Ichigo's body weight, Grimmjow lifted the boy up, who immediately wrapped his legs around Grimmjow's hips as best as he could with his slacks pulled down just low enough to be out of the way.

As Ichigo's legs tightened around Grimmjow's hips, they exchanged a heated, knowing look, and Grimmjow began to move, pushing deeper with each thrust until he was sheathed to the hilt. Ichigo clung to him with one hand and muffled his own cries with the back of the other hand. With both hands occupied, Grimmjow could only bury his face into Ichigo's neck to stifle his.

Tension built, their voices trembled and rose in pitch, both of them quickly becoming out of breath as Grimmjow led them towards release. When it finally did come, it was so sweet and intense that it almost  _ached_ , and when it was over, Ichigo nearly slipped out of Grimmjow's arms. They leaned heavily against the door, Grimmjow holding Ichigo upright as the boy slumped bonelessly against him.

"Gonna be—" Ichigo croaked weakly. "—late."

Grimmjow glanced at his watch and blanched.

"Ah, shit."

* * *

By the time they made themselves presentable, the students had already formed lines according to alphabetical order of their last names. As they took their spots, Grimmjow gave Ichigo a thumbs-up, grinning proudly when he saw that the boy's face was still glowing from their rigorous activity.

Ichigo smiled back and adjusted his robe again to smooth out the wrinkles that had formed from being wedged between Grimmjow and the door. Grimmjow fidgeted with his as well, feeling awkward and silly swimming in the oversized graduation gown.

Then someone signaled for them to move, and they filed into the brightly-lit indoor stadium. Thunderous applause rang from the audience as the students took their seats. There were only five people between Grimmjow and Ichigo, so they would be sitting in the same row.

Grimmjow craned his neck and squinted to search for his mother in the sea of people, and just when he was about to give up, he saw her. She waved, looking so excited that he was worried that she would pass out. Next to her, Ulquiorra quirked his lips into a lame excuse of a smile. They hadn't exactly become close in the past three years, but at least they weren't always at each other's throat now.

Most surprising of all, though, was that his father actually came too. And there he was, stony-faced as ever, sitting on the other side of his wife. Grimmjow locked eyes with him briefly before looking away and turning his attention to the speaker on the podium, who was droning on about how successful they were all going to be now that they had a piece of paper to prove their worth to the world.

Learning the truth about his birth — that he was an accident — had been painful, but knowing how hard his mother had fought for him soothed the ache. Grimmjow didn't think he would ever be able to form a normal bond with his father, and he was okay with that. They tolerated each other a little better now; It would take many more years, even decades, for them to mend the fence — if ever. Until then, they would keep an unspoken truce, if only just for his mother's sake. Even if Grimmjow's father could put the past behind him, Grimmjow wasn't sure if he could ever forgive his father completely for forcing his mother to choose between their marriage and Grimmjow, a decision so difficult to make that she ended up hiding her affection for her son. Alice Jaegerjaques was simply too gentle and meek to stand up for herself. That had changed, of course, now that Grimmjow was here to do that for her.

Before he knew it, the ceremony was over. He got his two seconds of limelight when he walked up to the stage to receive his diploma from the dean, and now he was officially a college graduate. Everywhere around him, people cheered and high-fived each other as soon as the dean presented the last diploma. The lines became less organized as they were asked to exit the stadium, and Grimmjow seized the chance to push his way over to Ichigo.

"Congratulations, fellow graduate!" he said with mock seriousness and immediately had his hat knocked off when Ichigo laughed and smacked his head with the hard-cover folder that held his diploma.

"Woot! We're finally free!"

They turned at the voice and grinned as Shinji and the others left their lines to join them.

"Be careful with that, man," Shuuhei teased, pointing to the precious proof of their expensive college education.

The artificial lighting of the corridor soon made way for sunlight as they finally stepped outside. Here and there, other fresh graduates were milling about taking photographs with family and friends. It took them only a handful of minutes to find Nnoitra, who immediately came over to congratulate them by hitting each of them on the head.

Grimmjow spotted his family walking past a group of students not too far away; his mother squinting under the sunlight, clearly searching for him. He raised his hand and waved, and was just about to call out to her when Ulquiorra pointed at him and steered their mother in his direction.

"I'm so proud of you, Kitt...I mean, Grimmjow!" his mother gushed excitedly.

Grimmjow let her yank him down for a hug, bending down a little to make up for their height difference. When she let go, Grimmjow straightened up and was immediately greeted by an outstretched hand. He eyed his brother a little apprehensively, then, finally deciding that Ulquiorra wasn't about to make some insulting comment in front of everybody, he shook the offered hand with a grin.

"Congratulations, brother," Ulquiorra said, actually sounding genuinely pleased for once. "And you, too, Ichigo." There was an awkward beat of silence as Ulquiorra looked at Shinji, Shuuhei, and the others, who looked back at him expectantly.

"And, ah, all of you too," Ulquiorra added, looking stricken at his lapse of etiquette.

As Ichigo introduced Ulquiorra and Alice Jaegerjaques to his friends, Grimmjow found himself standing stiffly in front of his father. The man had yet to utter a word, and was simply staring at him with an unreadable expression. Grimmjow bit back the harsh words that had begun to form automatically at the tip of his tongue. No, he wasn't going to start something that would ruin the day, but he didn't look away. He didn't do anything wrong. He was a college graduate now, something that his father probably never expected to see. No doubt the man was thinking of another way to disparage his accomplishment, probably something along the lines of " _ah, I see you've managed to scrape through..._ " or something equally demeaning...

But the insults never came. What came instead, was an awkward, hesitant hand. Grimmjow jaw  _almost_  fell open in surprise, but he caught himself just in time and reached out to shake his father's hand firmly. The older man's eyes softened for a split second before his usual stoic mask slid back in place. Grimmjow wondered if he should say something, perhaps thank his father.

Before he could put more thought into it, the moment was shattered completely by a sudden roar of "Ichigoooooo!". Grimmjow had to quickly dart out of Isshin's way as the eccentric man tackled Ichigo to the ground. Or tried to, anyway. Ichigo dodged at the last possible moment, and the older man ended up landing heavily at Grimmjow's feet.

Grimmjow, Shinji and the others stared at Ichigo's father in disbelief while Ichigo rolled his eyes in exasperation. They had yet to meet him in person, and this was proving to be memorable first meeting. Ichigo's twin sisters tackled Ichigo next, joining the increasingly rowdy gathering. Grimmjow groaned inwardly at the thought of introducing Ichigo's family to  _his_  family later. There was no backing out of it; they were all going out for lunch together after this.

"Congratulations, Ichigo!" A petite, raven-haired girl squealed and threw herself at Ichigo, who quickly let go of his sisters to intercept her attack. Grimmjow snorted in amusement. That must be Rukia, the girl Ichigo secretly referred to — fondly — as "the midget".

What really caught Grimmjow's attention, though, was the tall, muscular redhead who followed behind her sporting a grin that could rival Grimmjow's. Grimmjow couldn't help but stiffen at the sight of the man. He knew this was Abarai Renji; Ichigo had talked about him plenty of times, and he'd seen pictures of the redhead. But Grimmjow didn't expect the man to look so... _breathtaking_...in person. Renji's hair was every bit as red as Grimmjow's was blue, he was slightly taller than Grimmjow and was just as broad and well built. Tattoos peaked out from under his hairline, his bandana, his short sleeves, even from his shirt collar, giving him a bold, exotic air.

Renji was, in short, a threat.

The redhead noticed Grimmjow's piercing gaze and stared back with a mix of curiosity and defiance. Grimmjow clenched his jaw unconsciously. This man was absolutely competition material, and he had the advantage of being one of Ichigo's best friends for so many years. Was he really here purely for Ichigo's graduation ceremony and not _something more_?

Renji raised his eyebrows and kept his eyes locked with Grimmjow's as if he was silently sizing him up,  _challenging_  him. Grimmjow felt his hackles rise; this was it, proof that the redhead was here to claim Ichigo. Nobody would spend thousands of dollars to fly half way across the world to see a "just a friend". Oh, he should've known—

"Guys, cute as it is to see you two comparing the size of your dicks, can you at least wait until after we have lunch?"

A stretch of stunned silence followed Rukia's question...then everyone roared in laughter, leaving Grimmjow and Renji cringing in embarrassment.

"Oh, Grimm," Ichigo chuckled, throwing an arm around Grimmjow's shoulders as the group began to walk to the parking lot to drive to restaurant where they had a reservation. "He's practically my brother, okay? It's kinda gross..."

Grimmjow scowled, the tips of his ears reddening despite his effort to will it away. "Shut it," he growled. That damn  _midget_ …

But then Ichigo laughed again, and Grimmjow decided that Rukia was okay after all. Anybody who could make Ichigo so happy was alright in his books.

"Happy graduation, kiddo," he said, reaching up to ruffle Ichigo's hair.

Ichigo batted Grimmjow's hand away from his head, attempting to look fierce and annoyed, but the twitching of his lips betrayed him. After a moment, he gave up and let a snicker slip.

"Happy graduation to you too, stupid."

**~ END ~**

* * *


End file.
